So cold. A wind chill. Ice storm. Eight inches of snow predicted but didn't materialize--thank goodness for small blessings. But hard to think of the 70-something days last week when the wind was warm and the sky blue and the leaves just popped out of the trees, the tulip tree across the street blooming like popcorn one day, the daffodils the same, and all the kids and the grownup coming out of their houses like little birds out of eggs, stretching our wings and blinking in the sun.
Harder still to think of the days in Florida when we ate breakfast every morning on the patio and wore tank tops and flip flops.
April is national poetry month. I should be readinga poem every day! You, too!