It’s poetry month. I’m getting a late start. Don’t try to make sense of my poem. I’m not sure what it means myself. Perhaps an indication of how tired I am.
I meant no harm
I said to the wind
Blue jays cussed
As if to disagree
I’m searching for something
Maybe identity, peace, a road map
What was and is
It’s been a very meandering weekend – full of good intentions, things planned to start, to finish. The usual drill. The usual failure.
A few things were accomplished:
- The seeds are planted.
- The worm bin is prepped (where are those dang worms?).
- The dogs were walked and walked and walked.
- Horse feed was delivered.
- Researched a few cameras (looking for something better for action shots and low light).
- Researched places to camp in Colorado.
Things not done:
- Haven’t selected a place to camp in Colorado. Information online and in books is so poor I don’t know how anyone picks a place to go to in an unfamiliar state.
- Didn’t write a damn thing.
- Didn’t read the book I wanted to get 1/4 way through.
- Was too late to sign up for a photography class I wanted to take, which unfortunately won’t be offered again until next Fall.
- Didn’t get the house cleaned.
- Didn’t ride.
The photo account of the weekend looks better than how I’m feeling right now so lets just go with that and forget the rest. After all, it shouldn’t just be about what you accomplish in a weekend. Right?
But the not writing. That’s the bad one. That’s the one that drives me over the edge.