the bowl tidy no more.
Spic and span my counter – not,
the dust mice a thundering herd.
But this page? Pristine,
despite hours of dirty words.
***
Words elude me. At least words specific to the BIG picture.
See that mountain over there? That tiny blip of a blot? There, on the ridge? That's me. Got my laptop, my spirals and notecards, pens and pencils. High-octane java, a bottle of Drambuie, some chili-infused dark choco. I'm hunkering down for a spell, a right long spell, and not climbing down until I bust past THE END on PURE. There's deadlines, you see.
When I do come down I hope I look like this.
I'm gonna be scarcer than usual.
Peace, Linda
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