Winters

I still use a notebook and a pen. If my reading glasses are near, I’ll use notes on my phone to capture a thought. Thoughts are consecutive but fleeting. The quicker I write them down the better or they may be lost forever. In my laziness and my naïve youthful arrogance. I let so many thoughts and ideas go to waste by not respecting the craft. I expected that I could remember special events and recreate feelings. Saving them up like a squirrel stores up nuts to be used in the winter. Where did I bury them? I can no longer remember. Too many winters have passed.

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