This morning I sit in my warm cozy kitchen looking out on what appears to be a gorgeous day, but the whipping of the wind and the shaking of the windows tells me otherwise. And so I attempt to sketch what I see...because part of poetry is learning to see with new eyes...but as you can see I am no artist. And I wonder...what allows some to see with such great perspective and others, like me to struggle so?
And as I sketch anger stomps around me threatening to take over my peaceful place of noticing, like an annoying toddler that keeps pulling and tugging on your arm while you are one the phone. And so the day reflects what is happening both inside and out as the blowing angry winds keeping spring at bay for yet another day.
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