Quicker than ten miles a minute this morning. I woke hungry, and like a bold blaze of careless and composition.
Running in 30 minutes. Will force 5+ miles out of myself. Start slow, I remind myself. Forget pace, that comes later…. You’re rebuilding and re-writing your running rile. Telling self, telling self…
A 365-day poem, playing with the idea. Playing with the morning, the possibilities encouraging and daunting int heir love. I feel overwhelmed this morning by all he graciousness of the day, the gifts in each scene.
Writing students, semester a week away. More than rising above reality. Dashing further into its sonics.
