It isn't just 'A Room of One's Own'
that a woman,
or any author needs.
It is space for thought
in a world of noise
and nonsense,
chaos, and conflict.
My room, Miss Woolf,
has no walls, and the birds
interrupt, and accentuate
my thoughts, in perfect
harmony and rhythm.
I swept today,
in mid-April
and brought the plants out
for air and light.
They joined me
for a bit of reading
and writing,
while my son
played basketball.
The dribbling of the ball
complimented the cadence
of writing, tonight.
My sister Alex,
who lives a country away,
does not have
a room of her own,
or the space for quiet
consideration.
It is starting to drizzle,
again.
Thank God for Spring,
and the changes it brings,
even when unwanted,
on a perfect evening.
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