I am sorting poems today. I try not to think of this as sorting socks–looking for sets, tossing out ones with holes, bothered by the ones still dingy-gray, wondering what to do with those left and unmatched.
Better to think of it as sorting through heirlooms and photographs–recalling forgotten faces, reclaiming failures as successes, revising memory for clarity, retrieving what has been lost.
Book Reader and Reviewer
Labrador Retriever Owner
Mother of Three Boys
Quiet Moments (a rare commodity!)
Singer in Church Choir
Wife of My High School Sweetheart
Yarn-Lover (the wool kind and the story kind)