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A few days ago, I felt incredibly whimsical and started my own “Book of Poetry.” It’s been a long time since I focused on poetry; I used to write a lot of it, but doesn’t any adolescent?

Anyway, I felt very reflective on life, even if only in haiku and one-stanza pieces. I had a genius and wrote an amazing haiku, but I don’t think I will share it yet, since I’m committing it to memory.

The notebook is a simple little Mead 5*, one of those perfectly sized 5×7 books, just right for my tiny rhymes. I keep it on my desk, always out, always ready for a brief moment of true inspiration.