2012 Stone #4 – Monochrome Morning

Small possum browsing seed below the feeder, a black cat watching, the squirrel up the bare ash tree waiting. It’s raining, the light thin.

(Experimenting with Dave Bonta’s suggested practice of 140 characters, ala Twitter. And this:  “Don’t be afraid to be boring or humdrum once in a while. . . .what made the biggest impression on you, that’s probably what you should write about.” from The River: 4 things I’ve learnt from writing small stones by Dave Bonta )

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About wrensong

I am a poet who collects stones. I am a wanderer of creek beds and forests, canyons and high desert who, coming home, sometimes finds words to tell the story. I am a companion with others in the search for Deep, Wild Soul. I shape containers in time and space for others to come together to write, to tell their stories, to hold each other in the telling. I am a grandmother and the companion of a cat named Alaya. I often travel out into open country with a man who calls himself Dunewalker who has hung his hammock in my heart.
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