My walk is brief, in the late afternoon at dusk, after a day away from home. Awake at 5:00 a.m., I left the house in a dark stillness after stopping in the frozen yard to feed Franci's pigs in her absence. Osa and Leona are happily heating each other, sleeping side by side in their shelter. They hear me sloshing cooked pumpkin and grain into their pen but don't bother to stir - it's that cold.
By 8:00 a.m., after daylight and traffic, I arrive at UMass Boston to present two poetry workshops to middle schoolers as part of Mass. Poetry's Student Day of Poetry. The students who join my class are happily surprised - they get to use their cell phones because I'm showing them my process for writing from their photo streams. They write about dogs and sports, travels and scenery of favorite places, plus loved ones. All of the spontaneous sharing, is heartfelt, authentic. One young girl writes about learning to stand up on her horse - learning to believe she can do whatever she sets out to do - she can overcome her self doubt, no matter what. I encourage her to share her poem in the open mic after lunch.
It's late afternoon when I arrive home, put on my warm jacket and boots, and set off across the field at dusk. It's not a long walk, we go to the river and back, walking carefully over the frozen snow, icy in places. When we return to the house I'm charmed by the view within, the warmth and invitation of light at the start of a mid-December eve, and the fire I left kindling in the hearth.
