Shorewood become my private place.
We are not so communal here, occasionally acting social, looking together,
Yet our minds,. Remaining very private places and there creating very intimate spaces..
My mind hardly ever flings open its doors although at times somewhat.
Inside. Alone inside.
Words seem the only access but they are not keys to doors and inner cells.
Nor can words describe the thoughts within, within . . . within.
Returning here to my physical space, here in Shorewood.
From here where I face east, there is no east, only one horizontal view.
For over 190 degrees, viewing the east, this is my Shorewood, my own private sphere.
From here only the curvature of the earth for all the distance of my view.
But behind me, the movement of community and Motorized motion.
This is my Shorewood too:
Children Walking to school, privately enclosed in their own Minds, yet the children appear on display.
Now a look at Shorewood, at its Heart:
Tthe core of the Public forum, otherwise Private Place.
Here,Children, growing thoughts within Gray buildings.
Thoughts that may never be Revealed,
Perhaps never Again to themselves.
In the mind, here we Also find a Private storage Space.
Only rarely and Slightly viewed from Outside, but not for long..
Private places and private spaces, significant and with worth, but here no commonality.
Private, privately private, Mind and Place