#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Morning Brook

. . .the beautiful changes   

In such kind ways,   

Wishing ever to sunder

Things and things’ selves for a second finding, to lose   

For a moment all that it touches back to wonder.

~ Excerpt from The Beautiful Changes, Richard Wilbur

Turns out the best thing to do in the morning sunshine is go to Farm Pond with shovels and pails and plastic dinosaurs. We go early, and the beach is ours. We’ve dressed warm, but worn our suits. The pond is so pretty with the colorful trees reflecting on the water. We both get wet, of course. But the sun keeps us warm enough to stay as long as we want to play. Then, Charlie has his walk alone with me. We stop at the colorful brook. I realize how tired I am today. Mighty tired, in a happy way. It has been such a fun weekend. All day I work on poems and nap, work on poems and nap. Both are super productive. I am revising in a way that leaves me satisfied, not frustrated. I have CNN on without sound here and there. Very disturbing images of children in Gaza. I want to throw something at the tv. I keep seeing Wave running on the edge of water in sand, his active, healthy frame moving freely. The children on the screen cannot stand up. We have a casual dinner, leftovers, and Frank and I sit in the living room watching a show, relaxing and cuddling. He comes between us. Right smack between us. He won’t leave us alone, thank goodness.