
At the cabin I write the old fashioned way
with a pad and pencil, I will stay.
At the cabin,
My computer has failed me,
loosing its charge, you see, but the words still come as fast as can be.
At the cabin,
My inspiration is plain in the nature all around,
foggy mornings, calm waters, and calling loons abound.
At the cabin,
My mind is free to wander
as I watch the woods and fisherman over yonder.
At the cabin,
The days are short, spent out in the sun
as nighttime arrives we gather around the fire for more fun.
At the cabin, I don’t have to wonder what I’ll do with my time
after I’m done writing, I realize my life is rather sublime.
© Draft, Carol Labuzzetta, 2021

Today is Poetry Friday! Our host this week is the wonderful Molly Hogan at Nix the Comfort Zone. Thank you for hosting, Molly!


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