Today’s poem brought to you courtesy of that horrible feeling that hits you in the gut about 15-30 minutes after you’ve done something that makes you ask: “did I actually do X?”

Today’s poem brought to you courtesy of that horrible feeling that hits you in the gut about 15-30 minutes after you’ve done something that makes you ask: “did I actually do X?”
Yesterday’s poem written before a long drive through some yucky weather. Too heavy to be called mist, too light to be called rain. Just wet enough to make the roads fun to drive on and seep into everything.
This morning’s poem brought to you from that “I don’t know where this is coming from” part of my mind. I’m honestly not sure if it’s a form of insight or simply my attempt to process everything that’s going on lately in the world. There just seems to be so much…
I’m not done yet!
This has been an amazing journey and experiment in he creative process. I’ve missed more days than I’d like but at the same time I’ve written so much more poetry than I ever thought that I could. I’ve now built up a not insubstantial collection of poems.
In so doing, I’ve almost completely filled up my poetry notebook. It’s time for a new one and that both saddens me that I’m done with this one and excites me because I’ll be starting with a new one. Maybe it’s just a writer thing, but that does a little something for me.
Realized this morning that I made a typo several weeks ago in my poetry journal with the result that all my days going forward from that typo have been mis-numbered. Oops.