What keeps you up nights?

Asia Kennen posted an interesting comment on her blog yesterday. "What keeps you up nights? The fear that someone may read all the random scribbles in my notebook when I am not looking." Ain't that the truth! I am surrounded, haunted, by scraps and rumpled piles of notebooks harboring embarrassing notes to self, unedited bits and starts, some going back years, that will probably never receive a finishing touch; mental space junk; dark matter perpetually orbiting me as I wobble through life.

That said, this morning, inspired by her question, I picked up an old red 4x6 Mead Memo Book that had fallen yesterday from the overstuffed bookshelf defining the alcove where I sit and work on poems, when I manage to pull myself out of bed in the pre-dawn chill, and commune with my muses, as the ancients were so fond of saying. I say "muses" because I either have several or one who is a shape shifter. "Learning my Limits" is penned on the cover in grade school style print. I must have several personalities because my handwriting changes with my mood. At any rate, Kennen's question inspired me this morning to leap before I look and post the first two entries. I will do my damnedest not edit anything but no guarantees. I must do it now, before I lose sight of the fact that it is these things that stand in the way of me and highway.

This is a promise and challenge to myself. The first, As Is entry will soon follow.