This effort is suffering from bottom of the basket syndrome. You know the things you want to do, but never quite get to because everything else piles up on top of it. So as a respite, I’ll post this poem. I like writing. I like poetry. I am not a great poet, but perhaps you will enjoy this.

This Heart
This heart
has taken flight
thinks it is a cormorant
wheeling on currents
off sharp Bodega bluffs

This heart
has filled itself with yellows
thinks it is a sun.

This heart
caged and confined for so long
is dancing slow waltzes and slinky hip-hop

This time
I remember the brown bread,
sweet butter
when I call!

Tags: Poems, Nature, Relationship