Tuesday, April 13, 2010

In my travels, I found this tree—split and chunked away from itself, crooked and ungainly, and still capable of green. I felt myself a kindred soul. Leave me be for just an hour, ask nothing of me, and I stir inside with story. I don't know how old I look to the world outside. When I am writing I feel ageless.


Beth F said...

Beautiful. I am so sorry that I will not be able to get to Philly this weekend to meet you. I think I just need to take a weekend off to putter in the garden and de-stress after my busy time.

Karen Mahoney said...

When I am writing I feel ageless.

Yes, that is perfect. Just that. You brought tears to my eyes with this line.

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