December 5, 2022

Began the day with a trip to the Y. My body hurt in so many and various places and ways I thought I’d take a gamble that it was lack of use, and I was right. A man with an artificial leg was shooting baskets. He was so smooth and adept I didn’t realize he had an artificial leg until I noticed another one, maybe his not-for-the-gym one, leaning against the wall.

Wrote a poem about throwing poetry magazines away.

Painted on Lake Powhatan.

Lay on the bed half-napping, listening to Christmas music. 

A productive, and therefore a happy, day.