



while the sun shines
a day of warmth and sunshine
rare for January
the new year has just begun
tired from the busy-ness of the holidays
every bit of extrovert-ness mustered
has been used up
(exhausting for an introvert)
wandering alone around this farm
a breath of fresh air
before my hibernation begins
to sort things out
to accomplish some goals
to start on a couple of projects
to try something new
(in March I will be spending a week up at Maine Media College, participating in a workshop led by Cig Harvey)
Is it possible to teach an old dog new tricks?
I’ll let you know come April

I hear the quiet
in the dark
and smell the warm sunlight
dancing across the wall
I see the crack in the jar
where the cover doesn’t quite fit
I feel the chip in the wall
in the shape of a ragged heart
I taste the offering of sweetness
waiting on the table
I think
this is me
my self portrait

“..the lawn
Is pressed by unseen feet, and ghosts return
Gently at twilight, gently go at dawn..”
T.S. ELIOT
(excerpt from To Walter de la Mare)