When I was a little girl I thought in poems. Then I grew up and now I mostly think about grown-up things like bills and what to make for supper and what time it is. If I try very hard to remember what it was like to think poems, I can sometimes catch a small glimmer of it. (Warning: none of my poems are very good).
In a corner of my kitchen
Near the window
Live a rabbit and a bird.
The bird cheeps and twitters
While I stand at the sink
The rabbit silently chews
As I dream out the window
Of soft brown creatures
That live in grass and trees,
And, 'sea, hill, and wood'.
Collecting, sorting, gathering,
Washing, mending, feathering
The steady thrum of my heart
The rain against the glass,
Water swirling down the drain.