Guest shot poetry and lots of yellows

Here I sit, amid a flurry of posts on my Facebook feed of people going to interesting places on vacation, of the dire situations around the world (how can humanity be so damned cruel to itself? It's boggling), and the legal shenanigans of the former president in the first of his several trials. My life, for better or worse, is relatively mundane. I am grateful for that: for about ten years, things have been entirely fraught, what with family deaths, Covid, and other health and job drama. 

I'll take quiet. 

Not that it's all that quiet, and I'm sure there's a truckload of shoes to drop (there always is), but I'd much rather the shoes that come my way be of the sort that irritate, not threaten, my mental status quo. 

Today, I get to do a guest poet breeze-in/breeze-out in the 8th grade science class. Wish me luck. I haven't done anything with middle schoolers in eons, and they don't know me. That fact alone may be in my favor, but we shall see. Either way, it's a 30 minute stop-drop-and-roll, and it could either be fun or frustrating. I am hoping for fun. I'll report back, if there's anything to report. 

I haven't mentioned my swath of daffodils, have I?! They multiplied! There's a whole drift of them in front of my house! I should take a photo. They look like the land version of the little yellow finches that have taken over the lilac hedge. There must be 40 of them, and they are a delight to watch. So, flowers swaying below, birds flitting above. There's something in there, some symmetry, that nature is gifting me with; I only wish I could write cleverly about it. There really are things that defy being set down in words. 

I hope you have a good day,

C