Category Archives: whidbey island writers association

Whidbey AIR interview

adult contentWednesday afternoon’s interview with Perry Woodfin at our online public radio station, WhidbeyAIR  about my upcoming chapbook, Collateral Damage, from Finishing Line Press challenged and intrigued me. We explored questions about post traumatic stress and drone warfare. Perry expanded my definition of the damage trauma can inflict, and engineer Gwen Samuelson updated me on our shared D.C. hometown.

I didn’t know much about WhidbeyAIR before. I kept looking for it on my radio dial until I realized, “Duh — it’s only online.” Organized by Langley artists in the late 1980s, it aims to connect creativity on our island with the world. An all-volunteer staff keeps it up and running.

My interview with Perry will air Saturday, the 19th at 10pm, Sunday the 20th at 2pm. Otherwise, just link to WhidbeyAIR and click “Listen” to hear streaming content.

Poet Beginning

Talk about green. An inch-long Pacific Tree frog hides on a hydrangea leaf.

Talk about green. An inch-long Pacific Tree frog hides on a hydrangea leaf.

Thank you for stopping by my poetry site. I’m honored and delighted you are interested in my work.

I first began writing poetry in junior high school. It was thonking awful stuff. My first poem about Scotland went The Roman armies long ago/conquered most of the land/they could not conquer the northern part/because of barbarian bands. Several decades passed before I came back to the genre.

I woke up in 1994 with the lines to a second poem running in my mind. It was a prayer, really, written during a stressful marriage collapse. I longed for peace, solace and wrote Green:

Dripping, pendulous, saturated green,
luxuriant forest.
Enfold me in your caterpillar moss mysteries,
lull me with languid cicada sounds.
Make canopies of emerald,
            caverns of malachite,
            jade cascades.
Show me all your secret places
and anoint my sleep with Rousseau-like dreams
of green.

It actually won the Whidbey Island Writers’ Association Spirit of Writing prize for poetry. Overly encouraged, I began writing all sort of drivel about my new home in Puget Sound’s pewter world. Next local poet Lorraine Healy was good enough to include me in her Monday morning group, and I started to learn something about my craft.

Copyright 1994 Linda L. Beeman