#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Crossing the bedroom this morning I see a lovely sunrise across the field and note it: ah, lovely. I haven’t been noticing sunrises. . .wait! It’s because I have not had these windows, this view! Nine months out of this room! The length of a pregnancy, full term! Well, it’s wonderful to be back with my windows to the sky. I got out with Charlie and wander in a meditative state. I go to the meadow, across the trestle bridge. I am listening to the wind and the birds and the sweep and brush of Charlie’s feet through the tall grass. Milkweed gone to seed, it’s a focal point, and I cross the deep deep grass to get to the place where I always find it coming undone by the river in the wetlands. I need to be quiet and in the moment. The day feels like pressure—too much to do. I want a poem, and I don’t know if it will be too much of a squeeze to get one for tonight. So many interruptions. But, I get to my desk and after some e-mails, focus. For a bit I try for something brand new. It doesn’t go anywhere. On an instinct, I open a poem I haven’t worked on in some months that has been workshopped twice. I read my meticulous notes typed from feedback. My readers appreciated the poem. It was working better than I remembered. It feels worth finishing. I give it an overhaul; find some new good things and improve it. I feel pretty darned satisfied. Tonight, after dinner, the energy of the house goes to our bedroom again, the big couch and the shiny expanse of new wood floors. It’s a gathering place. We have coffee, we talk, we relax. Then, to my poetry workshop and my poem is yes. Yes. Yes.