Poems come to me like cats — when they feel like it. My third grade teacher had me write a book of poems for extra work, but too many adults peering over my shoulder chased away the cats. It wasn’t until I lost my dearly loved husband that poems started creeping back to comfort me.
If any of these poems sing in harmony with your experience, feel free to let me know. If any displease you, let me know that too. All feedback is valuable and welcome. Thank you and enjoy!
The photo is of Palm Beach in Sydney, Australia, and a loved childhood scene. Sydney has about 26 such beaches, pristine despite the crowds on summer weekends. My brother has a holiday house near Palm Beach.
Jen
