#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Milkweed, December Meadow

Too bad, I forgot about the deer. Too late, I'm in thorns, admiring milkweed, the dogs are on the carcass. It's been ravaged and dragged by some nocturnal animal to this new place in the meadow. I have to leash them to drag them away, they'll be sick.

Before all this nonsense, I'm peaceful – plenty of milkweed gone to seed and berries, bountiful, under blue sky.

For many reasons, (it's Monday, after all), I don't stay peaceful, it's a roller coaster of emotion day, but it's productive – that means something. I revise a poem I prepared yesterday to take to the master class with Natalie Shapero; when I got there I changed my mind, shared another one I brought just in case, which turned out to be the right choice. I continue revising my February poem, in a February mood – forgetting to stay in a milkweed mood. 

Berries, December Meadow