I peek out of my window, to see who’s feeling brave.
There’s no one moving out there so I guess I’ll have a shave.
Then I lift up my curtain, and have a peep beneath.
There’s still no sign of people so I guess I’ll brush my teeth.
I wash my face and comb my hair and still there’s not a soul out there.
If someone doesn’t show up soon I’ll lie back down and sleep til noon!

[This poem was written on a particularly cold and blustery morning when the MMC was camped at American Girl Mine Road and I was waiting to see if anyone was coming out for our morning circle.]