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I awoke from a dream that I was on a tour of the Bodleian Library to the sound of cars swooshing over wet roads…something I haven’t heard in quite awhile. I proceeded to spend four pages of Morning Pages in bed with the kitties enjoying the wet, gray morning. Perhaps my rain dances are working!

I find myself nostalgic for past editions of myself…my 8-year old self climbing wooden stairs in Ketchikan, Alaska with my aunt on our way to the blueberry festival…my 18-year old self with books and paperwork and clothes spread out, getting ready to head off to London for my first big adventure…my 28-year old self working on my new house with my new husband. It’s strange to have so many versions of yourself to remember. Now I’m 38. I wonder what I’ll yearn for in this edition when I get to 48.

Once I crawled out of bed I sought out an old book from my undergraduate years…Stephen Adam’s, Poetic Designs: an introduction to meters, verse forms and figures of speech. I’ve never been a poet, but I used to enjoy writing poetry more than I do now. Now it feels as diabolical as the rubik’s cube. I remember this book making poetry accessible and fun, and also inspiring some of the poems I’d like to submit to the Redwood Writers poetry anthology.

And so starts this wet, gray weekend with swooshing cars.

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