After a Zoom hiccup, yesterday's writing retreat mostly settled down and behaved itself, though as the day wore on into evening, there were flickers and brief power cuts from the stormy wind. Here in Portland, we had rain, then sleet, and now a couple of inches of sodden snow coats the roofs and streets.
The retreat itself went well, I think, I hope. The conversations were rich, and the poems people wrote were stunning--such good and complex work. I was pretty happy with my own draft too.
I'm tired this morning, but in a good way. And I can't stop rereading my new poem.
[That's Ruckus's author photo up there. Yesterday, as soon as I got up from my Zoom seat, he stole it and pretended to be me.]