I’ve had a busy weekend, and I can’t believe it’s already Sunday evening. I haven’t done much writing, but I cleaned my house, entertained guests (and talked about Nathaniel Hawthorne, movies, children, and my novel), and I thought a whole bunch about my novel. Meanwhile, my friend Carla Shafer is doing the August Poetry Postcard fest again this year, which means writing an original, new poem each day and mailing it. She shared this one with me, too:

(Postcard of timedelayed stars above Mt. Baker)

Follow the Arc

Stars spinning away from the earth

a curve becoming a wheel

waves falling from the sea

snowballs flying from grip to hit

a hand ready to clasp

cats’ tails, orgasms, rainbows

shadows tracing glaciers

along the the rib of a mountain

a story on the way to its end.