3/31

It is in the chasm held within, of being alone,

Of keeping as one, I realize, no one is any longer there.

Your support's gone.

Yet there is where I need put standards down, hoping

They will hold and keep me going well, alone, now

Your support's gone.

3/30

The sun sets later, I prepare food, light

Candles, listen to the radio, open wine, share

Dinner with memory.

3/29

Friends feed me Indian, spicy and good, wrap

A blanket 'round me, sit a dog next to me, place

Wine in hand.

Tool their cart down dirt roads admiring

The sky, the marshes, the new homes, cool air,

Mostly good friends.

3/27

Woke, 6 am, to go paint. Woke to a soft blanket of snow.

The first snow fall since well before last year that

I have enjoyed.

3/25

The dirt road home is badly rutted which allows time

To observe the gray clouds above, the lemony greening as

Trees start budding.

Mostly this year, though, the chickweed is blooming in a

Startling purple haze blanketing long fields in a color

Strongest this day.

3/24

6 am up to paint: two in DC, me in Pocomoke, one in Drayden,

We call and rise to carve this time, morning light reflecting our

Work, our choice.

Our choice to dedicate time to this work, to give it thought,

Give it shape, form, color, substance; to give time to seeing

The beauty around.

3/21

Weekend spent painting at a great workshop, three days filled well.

Nights in a funky motel on the Potomac, friends to share and discuss

things we learned.

Back to DC, up at 6am to paint in a friend's studio,

Short sessions resulting in good paintings, making

A good day.

3/17

No green beer or cheer, just driving, go-go's sleep, sun sets,

Will sleep here at home. Little comfort coming home, come morning

I'll be off.

3/13

This evening sat with my brothers, my sister-in-law, my mother

Enjoying their company. Big brother consents to help with paperwork.

What a relief.

3/10

The grass is greening, a tender haze on wintered land

Where our horses once ran. The hay is greening above

Where you are.

3/9

Rose with the sun shining softly over the marshes

With the go-go's seated behind drove the day

To your sister's.

3/8

This evening the go-go's join me on the tree bench

Where, one at a time, they hop up for a good brushing.

I sip wine.

With breezes ready to loft hair, brushing need be carefully

Done to avoid fur in the glass. After we sit together watching

The sun set.

3/6

Elsewhere wrote: my main support remains

The love I had. With it I can go on and try to

Go on well.

Another replied: we'll see.

What "we'll see"? That I will fail, be unable to do well

For myself?

Perhaps I am just one more weak, incapable woman.

But choose to believe otherwise. Should I fail? Damn you on

The way down.