The left side of the blue floral couch is my spot.

It’s where I settle weekly, enveloped by a human security blanket.

Surrounded by these writing women,

the liquid scratch of their pens in symphony with mine,

 I am secure, safe, accepted, loved, appreciated.


Even when the writing flounders, goes off track,

gets tangled in shallowness or is too personal to share,

this corn-flowered sofa is where I center,

away from the busy business of life,

breathe and just write.


Word by word, sentence by sentence,

spoken and written, shared and secret,

we connect through our triumphs and failures,

set-backs and sorrows.


They have taught me so much:

The habit of practice,

 How to appreciate a good Cabernet,

 YA novels, haiku and baked brie.

To be honest with myself,

To never assume you know someone completely

(Because she can surprise you

With an F-bomb delivered

in the sweetest Southern accent imaginable.)

That there is life after unspeakable loss,

That giving love a second chance is worth it, mostly

To always read reviews before seeing a movie,

And kids, man.


To these women,

my wild, wonderful Wednesday Writers,

my friends,

see you around the blue couch next week.

We have a lot to write about.