Maybe spring has arrived? and daffodils...

(Not my daffies-- I put mine in an Irish coffee glass mug!)

I bought a small bundle of mini daffodils yesterday. The weather was glorious, I'd survived doing the taxes (barely), and there they were at the Co-op, cute little bouquets of springtime. I'm glad I did; they brightened up my mood considerably. 

Today, after I read at church (and it's a long reading!), G and I are going to try to go out to breakfast. Hopefully, the out-of-staters have discovered that the skiing is probably pretty much done with (though I'm sure there are die-hard slush skiers), and we can get a seat at the diner. 

All good things. Yes, I have to grade some papers, but I did a stroke of work yesterday, and that's all that's left on my to-do list. And I am going to do the Irish-American dinner today: corned beef (in the crockpot), soda bread, veggies, and I'm making a blueberry pie. If it's nice again, I'll open the windows, too. I did for about four hours yesterday, and the house smelled so nice. Even if there's piles of muddy, crusty snow and dead grass outside, it appears that winter is finally (albeit slowly) leaving. 

Here's a poem for you that first appeared in Global Poemic, and is in my chapbook, What to Keep:

Pandemic Easter, 2020

 

Rough from so many ritualistic washings, twenty seconds each time,

                        "I will wash my hands in innocency, so will I compass thine altar, O Lord…"

my ripping, winter-soft hands grasp and claw at dead things,

intent on scratching some small space for beauty. Brittle leaves,

                        “Take off the grave clothes…”

splintered grass, wind-blown paper and snow-faded candy wrappers

give way. Shifting raised forms into position feels like faith.

I find daffodils.

 

I hope you have a lovely day.

C