Cedars
I have returned to
keeping a journal in
a sketchbook.
Stories become
tactile to be smudged or
sharpened
on page
inviting playfulness
in the retelling
of my days.
Analysis begins
to jump around
and twirls out
on a ribbon
of color--
I can't hold back
the desire to draw
the shadowed
window separating
me and the
serpentine cedar
as seen through
glass panes above
the writing table
in the Peach
Blossom Suite
at Dairy Hollow.