A poetry assignment and some other stuff

It has rained all night.
 It always rains all night
 Here is a place where night means rain
 Where darkness is always accompanied
 By the clatter of raindrops and wondering
 When it will all wash away.

It always rains at night, and I
 lie in bed and feel 
 the ground shift
 the house lift
 the river form beneath me.

The rain forms a river that
 rushes down the sidewalk and
 sweeps us through the trees
 and carries us to the sea.

Every night I find myself in a new ocean.

Every day, I awaken in a foreign land.

Carrie and I have been writing morning poems together some days lately. It’s nice. I forgot what it’s like to sit down with intention and write a poem.

I’ve been busy lately, but a good kind of busy. I don’t have very much time for being stressed out. I try to stay calm from one moment to the next and manage my life in some kind of reasonable way. Did I tell you I got to be part of an art show? Here are some pictures of my poems on display at an art thing:

A post shared by Mary Hendrie (@msdirt) on

Oh, and also, I turned 35. Then I got hit on by this guy who wanted to know how old I was, so I said 87. They never believe me.

What to write once you've done the thing.

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