I have a notebook—leather-bound, the size of a palm—filled with my musings. It’d been packed away, lost with my marriage.
When discovered again, a mouse had chewed it for her nest. The poems are gone; I don’t remember what had been written.
I’m glad they found a purpose.
When not indulging himself by reading or writing poetry and prose, B.S. Roberts makes a living as a museum curator and an administrative assistant at the University of Maine at Augusta. He lives in Maine with his fiancée, daughter, silver pheasants, and four cats. bsroberts.com
How sad…
I actually found the remains of the notebook when I was moving in with my now-fiancee, so it doesn’t feel too sad to me. I’m glad I had time to heal before rediscovering it.
Nice way of coming to terms!
If nothing else, the experience left me with a new story. It’s best to look on the bright side
The author/poet can always “begin anew”! :-)
Fortunately, I have notebooks everywhere!
Very glad you all won
Thanks!