a ladder of rope, thrown down

So Shena is reminding me- as she does- and making me think, sort of sweetly, over this often-wandering. Even if I feel at home. The earth does go spinning, and here I am holding a sheep's head, and saying Hush. And Robin and I writing about cutworms & weasels.

town; a quilt for a drum; a driftwood hut; blue sky over the beach field

north by east