I have a tradition where I write a poem on Dec 31st of every year to describe how the year felt. This is my poem from Dec 31, 2020. I was lucky enough to be in a part of the world that was sheltered from the worst of covid, being in a small beach town on the pacific coast of Costa Rica. The cities there did worse, as did every densely populated area of the world. I was lucky and grateful and I'll never forget that.

Observation about the poem, not from it: Perhaps this energy influenced my dreams, which are our brain’s expressions of alternate realities. Change is definitely a constant, and each moment brings both life and death.

Sometimes I find myself thinking about the spaces in between moments of time...I didn't know what I was doing there, really