Reboot...

I decided I need a place to put things, a place to display creations without fear of consequence.  No one will ever see anything I create if I don't get over this fear of looking stupid.  So my poem a day habit might finally have a place here.  And if no one reads it, that's just the same as if I kept it to myself anyway.  And if people read it and have nothing to say, same deal.

I don't know what the purpose of this place is any more.  I'm trying to find one.

12.4  Ration

This late March mist

of melted snow

clings to trees and glass

and falls like wasted soldiers

three months early

for that meal they needed

in order to survive

another day in the trenches.

###

Out