A lovely sky to wake to outside the window.

Cold, cold, cold, and ice melt.

I swim and I have my own lane

I work on a poem for what feels like the millionth time and I think I am finally getting somewhere.

The pace of this week has served me well. Breathing time and buffers.

Dinner, I keep it simple.

Before dinner I go for a ride with my daughter to a coffee shop. We drive by a house she wants to see that’s for sale.

Still, the house is quiet in a way that it’s longing for the noise of a voice that can be heard down the hall, happy and sad, the house loves it all.