Dear April where were you today it was inclement in a distinctly wintry fashion
i was mostly indoors on my day of rest immersed in poetry, writing it reading it reading about it
except for a lunch break on which i indulged another guiltier pleasure: some nihilistic comedy on YouTube
i find it oddly restorative
it occurred to me as i was assembling the Poetry Blog Digest that butchers get a hell of a bad rap
that’s a comedy thought rather than a poetry thought but could work in either
anyway after all that i felt nearly drained of words so i went for a walk in the woods
i stopped at the biggest of the ephemeral woodland pools at the top of the mountain as i usually do and stared into its murky shallows
i find it oddly restorative
the sun set with little fanfare between storm clouds and a rose of grief blossomed in my chest
i remembered this morning in the trash burner how the flames had danced together so deliriously and then… just embers and ashes
returning across the field I saw the new(ish) moon through a hole in the clouds