I’m a little off-schedule this week navigating family, the start of my business season, my bid for Bar Harbor Town Council, and finishing that pesky master's thesis so I went looking for this poem.
I also found another old favorite —Rudyard Kipling’s, If.
These poems feel like old jeans when I read them. They always seem to fit regardless of how my body shapeshifts over time.
-n
The Guest House