lucia galloway

I am sometimes deliberate about place. I set out with the intention of capturing a specific location that resonates with the memories of something I experienced there. I write travel poems, poems about the basement of the house where I grew up, the school playground, a summer camping spot. Invariably, I find that these poems refuse to be tied to their specific locales. They surprise me with their commodiousness. There is something universal even in their specificity. Human experience is drenched in place—the sights, smells, tastes, and sounds of the ambient world, the heat or chill, the touch of wind and water, the abrasion or the caress of texture. Whenever I write, I am evoking place, whether I intend it or not. The poet in the world using the language that records our human experience: that poet creates new and unique places where readers may go to be stimulated, sustained, or renewed.