Way behind
Lord, this blog is out of date. Thanks for the prompt from Crazytown to get busy. But what to say? I am 12 weeks pregnant. A dear friend lost his partner recently and we've talked together a bit about the rushing train sensation (help, I can't get off) at both the start of life and its end.
I wrote a little note to my body's new occupant today:
I left the house thick in coat, hat, scarf, gloves, with pack and clutching my thermos of tea. Bright air crisped my cheeks and birds sang their cold-songs in the trees along the sidewalks. But you spin like a fish in the warm dark of my body, roomy still, and dreams flicker past your open eyes.