If I had time, this is where I would write about all the latest news in my life in witty and dynamic language. I would talk about our imminent move. How it always rains when we move, how stripping the walls bare does something to me, something sad. I would have something to say about leaving the place where Isaac was born, how I worry about the cats, how I haven’t yet called the utility companies. If I had the time, this is where I would talk about the poetry reading I did a couple nights ago, how much fun it was, how I got to go out like a real adult afterwards, how I adore the cluster of old men poets who tell raucous stories of their decades teaching community college over sushi and chit chat with the waitress in Japanese. If I had the time, I would talk more about these poets, because I really do adore them; I’d talk about their humor and their writing and how I am graced with their support. If I had the time, I’d mention my trip to the east coast, coming right in the middle of our move, how my mom is sick and the doctors have prescribed Isaac, about how my friends pile my arms with snow suits and sweaters Isaac can borrow, about how I feel this tower of fleece and wool as love. If I had the time to write, I’d be sure to write about the three miniature roses I got for Christmas, lined up in white ceramic pots one that says Peace, one that says Joy, and one Love. I’d discuss how the cats attacked Peace, dragged it straight out of its pot and left it in bits in the hallway. How I put it back, knowing it wouldn’t make it, and how the fresh red bud hung like a willow tree, weeping.