I got the idea of a Cat, like some weird contrapuntal music where several of us, men and women, Third World, surrreal, bare bones, would bounce off each other.
A tapestry with different days, a page per day, existing in alternating relationships to each other.
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
