Someone thought today was Poetry Day. Well, why not? Poetry does not need a special day to exist. It is. In honour of this day, which coincidentally is the fourth anniversary of the purchase of my kick-ass hunting boots — still going strong — and the first day cool enough to wear jeans after the long, hot summer, I read Maya Angelou’s poem, Phenomenal Woman. You might like also like to do so, and see how you measure up to her glorious celebration of her being.
Concurrently, as I opened my e-mail account today, I was pondering about all the information floating about in cyber-space. How readily we hurl words into the ether (admittedly, as well-ordered as we might), without a care for where they land, or how they might later be retrieved!
I see that, from the so-called Facebook memories, that on this day in 2014, I wrote no fewer than 1,589 words as a personal update. I have now copied and pasted them into a Word file, for they are worth keeping. There is a more efficient way of doing such things, I know. I downloaded “everything” on my Facebook page in March, but oh, I have added so much since. At least I know where that particular piece of writing is; for now anyway, since I am not methodical, and nowhere near as solid as the rocks and shells in my little flowerbed arrangement pictured here.
©2018 Allison Wright
Note: This is a “ten plus ten” (ten minutes of writing followed by ten minutes of fissling about).
That elusive pair of jeans 
Strange how some of the things we write disappear from memory. Good that you are downloading and keeping your work – more for the Long Drawer!
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