
I wanted to write about Paris today, but am stuck in bed with a nasty head cold. When it began , I felt as if there was a furry creature in my lower throat… perhaps a gerbil?
but the gerbil morphed into harangues of coughing, sneezing, and a nose worthy of three boxes of tissues.
More on Paris another day.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Published by ahiggins2013
poet, birder, senior citizen, cancer survivor, Catholic sister. Eight books of poetry published: At the Year’s Elbow, Mellen Poetry Press 2000; Scattered Showers in a Clear Sky, Plain View Press 2007; chapbooks: Pick It Up and Read, Finishing Line Press 2008, How the Hand Behaves, Finishing Line Press 2009, Digging for God, Wipf and Stock 2010, Vexed Questions, Aldrich Press 2013, Reconnaissance, Texture Press 2014, and Life List, Finishing Line Press, 2015.
View more posts