As some of you know, I have been working on completing an outbuilding that will soon be my writer’s shed, a simple place to find solace and a place to create. I plan to fill it with solitude and words. Those words began today when I wrote a “flash” poem on what was before me. Not to suggest that something good comes with speed, but in only five minutes these words came to me in a river’s flow. 

A Writer’s Shed 

My sacred space emerges 

Among the gardens of my home

Among the flowers of a lifetime

Among the seas all alone

Words are never written

Inside the roses one must tend

But are found in heaven’s spaces

Alongside the time I must spend

Lost in my heart forever

Pouring out from blood-soaked vines

It is here that I am with the angels

It is here I find the lines

The truth of what I’m thinking

Every solitary shift

These are the discoveries of angels

These are the sincere and lonely gifts

             —David W. Berner 2.17.17