A biography of necessity begins at a point in time,

but a real life may accumulate like snow,

until it moves forward slowly, as a glacier will.

Another life may assemble like a jigsaw puzzle, the final picture

inevitable, whichever piece is first laid on the table.

A bell rings at the middle school up the street, and fleetingly,

the image of a child runs into the house and calls me Mom,

but there is no puzzle piece that shows a child.


Everyday Wyoming, Photography, Poetry

Poetry Day / Biography