I am happy to rise early. Not much sleep last night, but rest. The coffee I drank after dinner so that I would stay up to write my poem kept me awake. Or, perhaps it was the energy of the poem draft that kept me awake. I didn’t mind. There is so much delicious rest of the body in bed, even if the mind is awake. That’s how it felt. And when I have a fresh draft of a poem it is running like juice in my thoughts. The pleasant sensation of: this is what I made; or, this is what I am making. I walked with my daughter, to Playa Pelada, over the rocks and tide pools and past the restaurant on the beach where we had such a scrumptious breakfast yesterday. Then we crossed onto Playa Guiones, and she went up the road from there to meet Frank for breakfast, and I walked back the way we had come after dipping into the waves. The sun was bright, but not too hot. I was home in time for coffee and toast before poetry workshop. There is such an excellent cohort right now in this monthly group. I was very pleased at my poem’s reception and got helpful feedback. And, afterwards, I sat still and revised the poem, sent it off, since it is a topical poem and I had a journal in mind. Then, I worked on my manuscript in preparation for meeting with Vanessa tomorrow. I must really focus now, on title and order, and really move into the readiness to submit. I swam in the pool. We all went down to the sea for a sunset swim, except Frank, who is a bit under the weather. Oh, the froth! The orange globe sinking, sinking, into the sea. I stayed, frolicking in the surf as the colors changed and my hands were dipped orangey/pink. We had a quiet night, each of us with our books or writing. A quiet, friendly evening with soft jazz. This afternoon, while I sat on the deck at my computer revising the poem, a bougainvillea blossom, lifted off its stem by a warm breeze, landed on my keyboard. Just right.