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