Most of what I want to say these days I put in letters to no one.
It is a late night affair saved and used for that
and that only.
Sometimes I feel as a writer I only have so much each day.
And when it’s gone,
it’s gone.
We follow the tides with no idea about the future.
Over and over again I am learning to listen.
Listen to the answers that present themselves,
by themselves.
Where are the places you go when you are left alone?
