I used to play the PIANO. In fact, it was a real source of joy. But over the years, without any OVERT decision being made, I stopped playing. GOLLY, there are times when I want to get that part of me back! It feels like a significant loss; it was such an easy source of joy. Now, sitting down at the keys brings back a FLOOD of memories, a younger self: a child who liked to sing, a teenager who loved playing, a woman who played Christmas carols and sang. These days, my self-consciousness casts a CLOUD over me, making it hard to give it a try. I’m too aware of how badly I play, too aware of neighbors and being overheard, as if my imperfections are equal to a prohibition. Writing this, I realize that is another piece of what I have lost: a freedom to be imperfect, to make music just for myself.

Georg’ann

Wet leaves FOUND bottom
of shoes. Scattered across floor,
CLOUD the mind, briefly.

Heather