#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Morning Brook

I woke, certain it was Friday, for some reason. My son texted me early, asked if I wanted to walk. I thought I couldn’t. Then, making my coffee, said out loud to myself––what day IS this? Then, I got Thursday back. Orienting myself. And walked with my son in the brisk morning. I took this picture standing at the brook with him, talking. My day started with a lovely heart-to-heart with him. We dropped, quickly, into a deep conversation, walking along the snow pocketed path, along the river, along the wetlands. Wearing our masks. Then, I had my poetry workshop, and my wonderful poetry colleagues, sharing poems, and mine was appreciated, and I was glad. Great feedback. A poem that I’ve been expecting to write for many many years. So much shorter than I thought. I felt very grateful to be writing with group. The day ended with a heart-to-heart with my daughter, in the living room, by the fire. Thursday. A day I almost skipped living; a day I lived so fully, so gratefully.