I am still upright. Bone is connected to tendon,
ligament to filament. I'm breathing,
and breath leads to song.
My brain is not just flesh, it is a canvas.
As long as I'm still here, any poem is possible.
Morning: I sit with coffee and good writing.
Better to sit outdoors, let the dog take her
desultory walks around the property,
show the squirrels what's what.
All rights reserved.
Saw a photo in a magazine and this came out.