Days 27-29

Fell behind, once the workers started painting! I am glad April is almost over!

Day 27:


That pile of laundry
you folded this afternoon?
The dogs played on it.

Day 28:

This Poeming Life

Is it everything you
dreamed of, your adulthood?
Where is your poeming,
the tree you can climb
and sit with pen and paper,
waiting for inspiration?
Are your words in type the same?
Reach back, poetself. Remind
the words within what that need
to create felt like.
But go forward, unabashedly,
knowing you've found your voice
and your words are stronger,
more experiential and will carry you.


day 29

a dirty cloth diaper haiku

poop insists itself.
I return to this moment,
gather supplies. change.