I am making a little book. One-of-a-kind. Imperfect.
The paper is not the best quality. But the cover is black and wavy and silky, like a river at night. I like to touch it. Someone must have given it to me. It was just sitting in my small pile of notebooks-to-find-a-use-for. I think it’s been there for years.
The book is a record of…I don’t know what. Early summer, I guess. This one, specifically.
A draft? Maybe.
An experiment. A companion.
An excitement! Literally, I am getting up in the morning because I want to read and write poems, and turn some of that activity toward this book.
Who knows why I am doing this. Because I love doing this.
Tara K. Shepersky 
My daughter💕💕😘
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Hi Tara, great idea finding a a way to poetry journal. Just talked to Doug. We are going to try to gather the group at his house on Sunday 6/26 at 2:00. Hope you can make it. You will probably see a group email from me soon. Hugs H.
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Oh no! I’ll miss yet again. Sunday IS usually a better day for me, but for this one, I will be deep in the redwoods.
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💕🏞️🌲
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I love the sound of this!
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