PHONE CALLS, EMAILS & SNOW:

 

Just got out from under the last batch. Is there time 

to run into the studio & lock the door? Last night’s 

weather report changed today’s plans, a tidal wave of 

electric post-its to replace the sound of music. 

It’s not the Julie Andrews review, but the hills 

in my head are alive just the same. Veins run with tea, 

craving the company of friends who’s collective voice 

soothes the journey. One foot goes down & then

the other, waste deep in white stuff today.

 

(K)