Do you ever take a break from writing or, god forbid, from reading?
Or maybe not a break but you get distracted.
And then you worry that you'll never get back to words again?
Because the path has been blown over with leaves or you've forgotten how to think that way?
I've been in a writing ditch for awhile, and last night the muck cleared.
The same 26 letters that are available to me every day -- the ones that have just been inscrutable lately -- suddenly fell into place on the page. Thank goodness.
Who wants to be without poetry?
(Yep. That's the whole poem. I just didn't have the heart to excerpt something this small and perfect. For more treasures, go see Sara Lewis Holmes for Poetry Friday. That's what I'm gonna do.)