Musings on personal growth, books, motherhood, writing, and more. "Every hour is saved from that eternal silence, something more, a bringer of new things." – Tennyson
Squirrels rush around like Wall Street brokers,
every nerve bent toward the goal of rich stocks.
My cats come alive like kids at a circus,
the music provided by honking geese flocks.
I sit on the steps like a garden statue,
watching the leaves take their final bow:
like confetti, they color the day’s cool breeze.
I will miss summer’s green—but not right now.