“…and everything is going to the beat – it’s the beat generation, it be-at, it’s the beat to keep, it’s the beat of the heart…”
At least twice in this past week, someone asked, “What is your beat?”
And I answered: “It’s new each day.” I write what I write and I like it that way.
I write about the birds and breeze, about small kids who play in trees.
I write about lost dogs and whales, and sometimes I tell fairy tales.
I write of oil, of spilling tears, of predators, of cheerful fears.
I write of songs and sunny days, of tragic wrongs and older ways.
I share war lore and birthday cake, eccentric art, choices to make.
And — each time I start to write, I know I finally got it right.