For National Poetry Month, I’m writing poems inspired by words, lines, or images in Virginia Woolf’s Diary.
As she begins a new journal in February 1927, Woolf muses:
Why another volume?. . . What is the purpose of them? L. taking up a volume the other day said Lord save him if I died first & he had to read through these. My handwriting deteriorates. And do I say anything interesting? I can always waste an idle hour reading them. . .
And so, with a nod to Woolf and more than one nod to William Stafford,
Day #9: What’s In My Notebook
Lost & found things.
Idle hours. Silence.
A line to follow.
Seeds. Crumbs.
Wild hares.
Sometimes the river;
sometimes the nearly dry creek
by the cottonwoods.
the dirigible plum 
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