Well, a post or two from 2013 went missing. For the best, believe me. Now we're in a new year, with a new attitude.

I said that 
just to see if it's true. Attitudes present themselves at my internal doorstep in a fairly regular basis. Some knock more insistently than others, but I open the door to all of them, perhaps even the ones I shouldn't.

In Iron Pot I wrote a series of poems about grief after my dad died. One was grief as a gentle old lady, one was grief as a thief stealing even the threa...

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