More blue sky overhead
this morning. A white haze off to the west, brightness in the east.
Now I've "officially" set my retirement for October 2nd, some four months off. I will step out of the world of paid work, into the role of starving poet. We will simply have to learn to live poor. I hope to live poor. I have never wanted much, so that's not a problem. I don't gauge my worth by how much money I have, but whether I'm contributing what I want to contribute. And my book Curlew:Home goes a long ways in the right direction. The "Plain Days" poems, too. I'm prepped and ready to spend ten years given over to writing.
A low haze to the east glows with the light in it. Water and light and life; everything else is dependency. A lazy flap of flag around the pole at the Fairwater cemetery - you don't really know which way the wind is, you don't know for sure that there is any wind, except your see the tall grasses moving in ditch and fence-line.
Where the hawk tree was, a natural roll of the land, as if all is right with the world. How soon we forget.
To the west of Five Corners there is a flag blown south to north. There is a wind. It knows its business. It pushes but it does not shove hard.