The day after the day of losing files and then recovering files is a good day. Eyes see sunshine and ears hear bird song. Inside as I begin again this writing of poems and making of images hope dwells full of possibility-- not the crossing of fingers. Life stands again as worthy and I know gratitude-- my computer now purrs like the new Subaru left on while I did the marketing. Today bodes calm like my sleeping Border Collie as I tiptoe to an evening glass of wine with feet up. Wouldn't it be grand if my brain could reset like the memory and life force of the red computer? Today I imagine my computer and I walking hand in hand while noticing the significant moments of this day that fall into a poem conspiring us to write and rather than losing our breath we are given the next breath.