In the museum, there is a place called the Secret Corner. There are poems about secrets and a book of secret poetry. There is a large comfy chair covered in red velvet there, and you need to sit in it and just look around and think and then write if you want to. There are pictures and drawings and sayings all around. There is also a box for secrets.
The box has a poem by Denise Levertov on it. This summer I didn’t have any ROMP events and dirtdobbers made a nest in the box. I recently took the mud nest out and noticed all the secrets were crumbling. That is as it should be . . . the paper available to write on is from an old notebook. But before they totally crumbled away, I took photos of them. I didn’t photograph the ones that had names on them.
What is a secret after it is shared?