Remnants of the journey to Homer stay with me. I love it here in Alaska, no matter how much it hurts. Today, I'm in the moment and getting it. Create, create. The love story is biting. Each new day brings a shower of silly torment. The disire can nearly kill you. I choose to take the passion, and stretch my bliss into a song. Oh given, the lilacs are blooming in Anchorage. Summer is spring and spring is summer. Light is dark, dark is light, love is strange, strange love. Simple to say, but a lot harder to live. I look at the images of Homer, and smile.
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