On a whim…

In high school I wrote a poem. “Sticking feet out the window; tickled by the rain. ”
Teacher said it wasn’t mine because it was good.

Borrowed from Laurel Connections

That would have been a good time to learn to cuss. I didn’t and that’s too bad ’cause the poem was good and it was mine.

Wish I still had that poem. Guess I need to resume digging around in the attic (metaphorically) and find some more, maybe better?

We’ll see. Stick with me ’cause I am going somewhere. Maybe not today, or even tomorrow. But there’s piles of stuff and you might want to read more of it.

But not tonight. It’s late, I am tired, and I have been reading which is a good thing for a writer to do, don’t you think?