I often see things in the mirror which I don't want to see.  (Or I see things that aren't there. The appearance, say, I wish I had.)  But yesterday, in our second floor bathroom where the mirror is aligned with a window that looks down on the back yard, I saw in the mirror a large opossum walking through our raspberry stalks.

It was eerie. The thing looked spooky, kind of other worldly.  I shivered a little and didn't go out in the back yard for the rest of the day.  Actually I haven't been out there today either.

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We've been having big thunderstorms this evening.  A few minutes ago the boomers were so close they were setting off car alarms up and down the street.

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B's out with colleagues.  I'm eating some  beans and greens, drinking Malbec and sweating.  It's very humid and a number of windows are closed because it was raining in.

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I feel more and more disconnected from the poetry world every day.  I could bullet point the reasons why but I'm just going to try to continue to write what I can and leave it at that. Let's just say I feel like an opossum in the rear view mirror.

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