Writing is hard.
I am drowning
In this stormy sea
Of fractured thoughts and half-formed ideas.
It all started the Tuesday before school got out for Christmas break. On the way to run some errands after school, Helaman told me his eyes had gotten hot at the end of school, and he thought he had a fever.
But not just a poem, a saga, a tale
Of another years passage along life’s long trail
A tale of a mother and father and kids
And all of the crazy old things they all did