I soon begin to write the final chapters of my story, for I am satisfied that I now know what Joe and Simply intend.  The writing might take some time

This comes after a false start, reading a book entitled ‘My Friend Flora’ (quite enjoyable) and a day writing 4 line poems, most of which shall not see the light of day.  Some few are good enough, I think.

Three 4 line poems, inspired by  the geography of my youth:

life
as fundament,
a squirrel chatters,
jealous of acorns at my feet

round or flat
matters not
in a world circumscribed
by trout rising to a fly

they cut down willow
that leaned over the water
where muskrat slept a’winter,
his home stocked with leaves and branches.

 

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