Self Portrait: Red Backpack, Fairhaven, WA, 2012

My snowy owl I got with JoyfulJerri,
drumsticks to jam on the street with
my bucket from Lowe's turned upside
down (you never know where you'll
find a band around here, seriously)
and a volume of The Collected Poems
of Emily Dickinson, first published
posthumously in 1890. She was rejected
as a poet in her own lifetime, never to
experience life as one of the most beloved
American poets of all time.

XXIII.
"I HAD no time to hate, because
The grave would hinder me,
And life was not so ample I
Could finish emnity.

Nor had I time to love; but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought.
Was large enough for me."
~ Emily Dickinson

Rock on.

Peter-Peanut Sunbathes His Nose



After breakfast, everyone takes their morning nap.
Peter-Peanut naps in his (furry, yes I'd wash it but
he loves to smell his own fragrance, so...) sleeper.
But his nose: SUNBATH! SUNBATH!
Still in the Afterglow of JoyfulJerri.
What a Wondrous Day!

~*!~