On the front of a wave I hurtled to the shore rasped by sand under sunny skies. A stiff breeze tickled the sea and I rolled to my feet to dive back for more. How long can I keep this up? The years fly too fast, days subside to a peculiar past.
Urgency grabs me to sort photographs, paint pretty pictures and start a new book, master another unit of Attic Greek and dig a trench for shredded old manuscripts… but today beyond all madnesses, have a cuppa with a friend.
Word for the Day: Poetics: poetic utterances or feelings.
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Elizabeth F Woodfield - A Greek Matinee 