Yesterday’s prompt began in your favorite room.
Today, write a poem about your favorite place.
Yes, it’s hard to pick a favorite.
And yes, a place could be a room–it could also be a city, an island, a restaurant, a big comfy chair, or a window seat on a southbound train.
What’s it like? What’s your history with it? Who are you when you’re there?
*** Poem fom day 10 (up about a day–and then “poof”, it will be gone) ***
(This poem started on Lummi Island, but it managed to get to Venice. I keep coming back to Venice–in my head. Into the Rumored Spring includes some Venice poems.)