My space

Last night I decided to splurge with a hotel room--to lounge in the tub, eat potato chips and watch tv (there's been no tv in my life for 33 days, and while I'm not a hound, I do like it occasionally, especially news). I figured I would get a better nights sleep where I had control over the air conditioning and the noise level. I was wrong. I was up 2-3 times during the night and woke with a headache--probably because I had control of the air conditioning and set it at 'northern winter.' 

While I was dipping my chips and mumching red grapes with cheddar cheese, I visited my favorite writer's website "Writing Our Way Home" and came upon the prompt by Margo Roby for an etheree poem. You can see her example as well as the links she provides to others. Here is my attempt:

I

Create

I embody

My space, my room

My identity

Colors the atmosphere

Permeates my surroundings

My energy determines me

Positive, negative, neutral me

Projects, absorbs, nurtures, and bears the fruit