Now it is so quiet here
I think I have reached that point of mid-season malaise. Between the hot, sticky weather and the stagnation of working life and the completion of creative projects, I find myself longing for something new, something to write poetry about. Which is very silly, of course. There is always something to write about, it's more a matter of forcing yourself to write it out because there is something else in the way. It's just the doldrums of July.