I am exhausted lately to think of it. It. To publish that small collection of my poetry I promised myself to do this spring. Here we are…almost summer. I’m chuckling. There’s no way I’ll meet the spring deadline. Autumn. I’ve always loved October! So crisp and fresh before all that death.
That’s OK. The world – thank the gods – won’t end on Summer Solstice. I can break a promise to myself now and then. So that’s OK.
One summer soon. I’m smiling on myself. One summer soon an autumn.