Twenty years ago, poetry found and saved me. Writing poems is like transcribing, listening to my muse weave words into a tapestry of images, feelings, sensations, and thoughts. This haiku is a composite of memories and things I love—the glory of summers in Central New York, listening to rain, the joy of watching my girls create and play. Like hopscotch washed away by rain, life is more bittersweet with each passing year of my life.