Wuthering Heights

I've started the New Year with a thorough appraisal of
past activities.

It seems that one's past will always return,
possibly not as a haunting experience,
but certainly fully documented by new technology
and its eerie advances.

A booklet I wrote while teaching is now listed
on the Net.
Nobody seems to have seen sight nor light of a copy
in years, but I have found memories of shaking my husband awake
at 1 a.m. to read passages of my insights aloud.
Probably he was not listening, but it helped.

Here's a New Year toast to a writer whose love of nature
has kept me in good spirits for years.