I always had in my mind a song about a woman named Ginny who lives (or lived) on an island off the coast of Maine. I want her to somehow represent someone who is willing to wait for something to return to her. What that something is I am not really sure. I was hoping that by writing her story that the plot will create itself.
I want it to feel like a myth being retold and that she is a ghost of some sort, maybe a tale that is simply being retold:
You can hear her in the breakers
Tightening the line in Jacob’s trawl
She is the story told by Nancy
in whispered words in empty halls
You can see her in the moonrise
In shadowed shapes of morning fog
Hid away in lightning traces
Buried deep in Caymans Bog
She is the dream that keeps eyes open
