My feet led me to the woods loop out my back door. The wood thrush serenaded us all under the rich green canopy of oak and hickory and sourwood. Finally I plopped down right down right in the middle of the trail and wrote: 77 that's my number this month, crosses with craned necks - whooping crane month in the middle of the year in the middle of the summer. But moon is new today - a start to something - even in the middle. I am the start of a family, a family begat by Alphonse and Althea - a new lineage of old world spooning with new world as woman spoons with man. So many opportunities to err in the name of bold beginnings - if we get so much wrong, there are so many ways to begin again and again, endless creation- buds bursting open to spray the world with beauty. Step here, not there - new dance; touch this not that - new embrace; think this not that - new dreams; living beyond the lines and within them. Such expansion - big bang! They made this family with lots of daughters
Kinetic Poetry - Subject to change without warning.