Poetry prompt was to write of an early memory. This is a favorite memory but one I haven't written about.
Lifted out of motel bed - still
in pink flannel night gown,
Daddy wrapped me in blanket -
Quiet - whispered, he wanted
to show me a surprise. Nestled close,
excited, I didn't ask what. He strapped
me into seat of friend's convertable,
top down, cold mountain morning
and drove up snake of road into
clouds- pink, golden, violet, glimmering,
irridescent, inside a mountain sunrise.
Tonight was great, if exhausting. We had a reading for the grief book Stricken, to whioch I contributed an essay. This is the second time I've participated in a readiong and it was, again, a very pleasing experience. We had around forty people I think - they came and went a bigt, never forty at once. I enjoyed hearing some of hte pieces read which I did not get to hear at the first reading.
Bob is home for Easter weekend - a real treat.