Is there anything better than a group of artists uniting in their art, nurturing and supporting each other and their lovely words of poetic beauty?

The 2021 Poetry Marathon brings new hope and creativity. This is my 6th (maybe?) Marathon. Last year’s Marathon saved me from Covid isolation and depression. I will be eternally grateful for the experience of examining my emotional and mental well-being through art the Marathon gave me.

Since then, I’ve cut ties with the sirens of social media. I don’t miss it at all, at least I haven’t until I think about missing the late night messages of poets from around the world. My claim to fame was posting a video of a Penis Bug. I’m sure some brave soul will fill the void of foolishness my absence may bring. Still, I will miss getting to know all of you in this uniquely sleep deprived way.

In real life, I am a daughter, granddaughter, sister, cousin, niece, mother, wife and grandmother- always and in that order. I have a daughter and two stepsons, all adults and married. I have two granddaughters, four step-grandsons and one grandchild on the way. Wanting more time with my 95 year old mother and my beautiful grandchildren led me away from a 34 year career as an educator, in which I worked as a substitute para educator, substitute teacher, para educator, teacher, behavioral consultant, and supervisor. The vast majority of my career was in Special Education.

At the end of the Poetry Marathon, I will be married 29 years – our wedding anniversary is June 27th. My love, my husband, retired last October. We’re learning how to adjust to having time and space together while we are remodeling our kitchen and getting work done on our old fixer-upper of a house. In between times, we work together – surprisingly harmoniously – in the micro farm garden that is our backyard. We make our home most days in Cadillac, Michigan, USA.

I am ready and excitedly waiting for the Marathon to begin. I have planned and prioritized the Marathon, but then again, what is life without obstacles and new wrinkles? These obstacles, collectively, are referred to as The June McKay Memorial Picnic, a casual family reunion dedicated to my late mother-in-law. “Fortunately,” I tell myself, “I have a notebook and the Word Press app on my phone. I can poet anywhere!”

Good luck Marathoners! I’ll read you at the finish line!