2021-09-08T18:24:55-07:00September 29th, 2011|Creativity, Musings on life|

A week alone at the cabin

I spent a week alone once
at the cabin,
the kids all back to school,
even the ocean seemed

I had a plan,
pen and paper,
the straightforward task
of plotting out
my life.

I should have known
it was fruitless,
that first night
when I ate a box
of ginger snaps,
one by one,
each time a separate trip
to the pantry,
pledging it was
my last.

I read six novels
that week,
for a vibration
not my own.

You think solitude
will be peaceful
but you don’t expect
the immutable expanse
of the stillness
to be such
a bully.

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