National Poetry Month (#nationalpoetrymonth) is drawing to an end with barely an acknowledgement. It's understandable. And it is what it is. Though (pre-pandemic) I had hoped to use this month to boost visibility for
tumbling: poetic thoughts from an anxious mind, it simply isn't the right time to do much self-promoting. I am grateful for the one lovely review it did get, this month. And, I'll try again next April. That's the wonderful thing about books, they do not expire.
