I confess that solstice always makes me a little sad because I know that the light starts waning from this point forward until December’s balance point.
I confess that I’ve been neglecting my writing in favor of my garden that now boasts beans, broccoli, cauliflower, arugula, kale, and lettuce, along with 72 strawberry plants left by the previous owner. Obviously, if things work out, we’ll have a lot of strawberries to harvest. In the greenhouse (which took an entire day to clean out), there are tomato plants, basil, and cilantro. On the porch, oregano, thyme, chives, and lemon balm. And flowers… I confess that I am completely in the flow when I garden, tugging weeds, composting, watering; I putter and putter not noticing the time pass until I glimpse how far the sun has moved towards the bench. Then, I hurry in to scrub my hands with lemon verbena garden soap and make dinner.
I confess that today, I finally put the last touches on my home office and now I have no excuse to not be writing up a storm. So, here goes my hat in the ring. I have seven poems that I’ve written about my brother. I want to write another thirteen to fifteen poems that will be cohesive group to submit to chapbook contests by the autumnal equinox. Three months, fifteen poems to write, and twenty-two-ish poems to revise and arrange. Doable, yes? I confess that I the kind of person that needs deadlines – so, here’s my deadline – poems done by August 15th, project complete by my birthday in September.
I confess that I’m a magpie – ooooh, pretty colors – then off I go.
This is what a strawberry looks like before it dreams of sweetness.