Storms between 3 and 5 a.m. have led me to begin now.
My cats aren’t all that excited. Neither are my plants.
I thought I might spend a whole day making and choosing and snipping and stitching, with less time reading endless articles about the… you know.
I write mostly nonfiction, essays. About once a year, I “get” a poem.
I’ll catch a bunch of them later today.
It’s 5:08 a.m., and I am never awake in this piece of the night.