Finding the Form with Eleanor Sudak

This poem began its life as an idea for a short story, a screenplay-like vision peopled by characters who can never quite come together in ways hoped for by the reader. I am so fond of the works of Mary Lawson, Anne Tyler, and Donna Morrissey that their themes flavour my thoughts. Or, maybe their themes fit congruently within the types of stories I tell. In the beginning I was trying to tell myself the messy, difficult story of the snow plow driver, and then, one morning the story tilted and became the record of a brief, unrequited moment in the man’s life. I am still playing with the idea that this frozen moment may become part of a larger whole.