A 'blog' is new to me... and so is my stoma. Consequently, trying to be honest writing about - and coping - with both makes me realize how much I need to look forward, not backward. As I'm a poet, this piece might say it for me...
Resolution
Mozart mixes well
with melancholy,
to such extent
that the notes have meandered
the estuary marsh
of my brackish mind,
sweetening the water.
Window pearls are growing
to decorate my view
of this first January day.
They swell, then bounce,
blooming into silver rivers
and streak like wraiths
to the rim.
A trailed rill
seeds more surrogates
- soft studs that star the dark,
even on a dank day.
I remember rain on another pane,
and my resolve returns
for this fresh-laundered year.