Easing my way back into writing with mindfulness, introspection, and writing challenges.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Beneath the Rubble
The sun hitting my face felt like Spring nearby Driving to the spa memories I thought long forgotten gurgled up Good memories My utter devotion to Rod McKuen in the 60s A line from Cyrano that I'd coveted Were they hiding beneath the rubble? Have I cleared enough rubble to see not all was tragic? Perhaps my mind clung to what I perceived as great beauty to balance what had been the rest of my life.