Spent the better part of the day digging a bed for and putting in a new Yoshino Cherry, double blossom ornamental peach, 3 rhododendrums and a tiny japanese red maple.  Lots of exercise.  Up early to run to the nursery to buy so the day has been mostly outside.  Consequently, as I put up my offering today I remind myself process not product and that all writing leads somewhere.  Perfection not required (nor are explanations required but I guess I feel like I must.  Maybe I’ll get over that one day.)

Random

One

On the wall the Mona Lisa smiles her secrets, watches as the woman runs down the marble hall, a silver service gleaming on the side board that’s in the middle of the room not on  the side.  She runs into it and it passes through her like smoke.

Two

What was I then, there, not yet born here; glimpses of red moon and 12 small green suns stun my night-time visions – perhaps only a dream – the more pertinent question is what am I now (who being a given – that would be human), what am I doing here.  Well, writing, you might well answer as you read.

Three

The second round of daffodils (early then mid, later the late ones) is starting to bloom.  They know their place better than I know mine,  don’t have to deal with daylight savings, are fortified against the madness of March’s uncertainly trailing into April.

Four

This morning I sit, coffee fragrant as any spring flower as my left, pages falling from the thrift-store journal in front of me, trying to transform into butterflies; instead they fall to the floor, sullen, lifeless, desires of transformation dashed.

Five

Brenda Hillman writes, “The upwelling of the sea continues/ Untold mouths scoop up the tiny krill/ Spin goes the cog of the snowflakes…”  I will note that it is not winter; however you are forgiven for thinking so because of the way the temperature keeps dropping.

Six

Possibly beneath the steps lives a tiny brown snake.  Or, possibly, it is an old dry branch the wind left last week as it blew through (see “Five” above).  I draped the new trees I planted with sheets to shield them from the hungry mouths of deer.

Seven

I have nothing left to tell you.  Nevermind, let’s go find the nearest ocean, feed french fries to laughing gulls, remember that today is all we have.