Misbehavin' Morning

SPRING EQUINOX March 20, 2026

As a child I was difficult.
(This I was told repeatedly.)

I rather gloried in it.
(This I remember clearly.)

Unlike my sister, when I
misbehaved I never agreed
that what I did was wrong.
(Never said sorry because I was not.)

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I rise with a story or idea, a song or character raging in my brain. Or it intrudes during zazen. Or wind flings it against my window like rain. It does not belong in the WIP so I put it here.