The day was bad the horse ran away.
My memoir had to wait to live--
brambles and poison oak
were its pages.
Sticks the birch shed. What I wrote it with.
And the cover!
Clouds mixed with two parts dog
half fattened calf.
Didn't you run away once?
Fans ask this frequently.
I remember it more like chasing
in my memoir. It is my memoir after all.