I houseclean my books every spring and throw out those I’m never going to read again like I throw out clothes I’m never going to wear again. ~~ Helene Hanff (1916-1997), 84 Charing Cross Road
Housecleaning
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I houseclean my books every spring and throw out those I’m never going to read again like I throw out clothes I’m never going to wear again. ~~ Helene Hanff (1916-1997), 84 Charing Cross Road

The Snow Storm
She watched the tree through the window as the snow fell gently, but relentlessly. Laden with its white burden, the tree’s branches bent. Shivering, she wondered how anyone could confuse gentleness with weakness.
Her house turned darker and colder. She went outside, approached the tree. The snow continued, immediately covering her footsteps.
The tree would not survive this storm. Nor would she.

Plants in silhouette
Contrast between dark and light
A view from within

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And that’s a wrap for NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) 2026! One new poem each day in April.
The colorful tiles
Playing the game tic-tac-toe
A different winner each time
