It can’t hurt to try to write a daily poem, right? Right? An acquaintance told me of an acquaintance of hers who was going to write a poem a day in an effort at self-improvement. I think a more realistic goal is to take a photo a day. Here’s one of a bird at the old Cedar Avenue bridge. It seems he has new epaulets coming in.
Dandelion stalks’ crisp snap,
And clumsy June bugs I’ve trapped.
I’m alive to a new soil and bug and catkin.
In early summer I feel a melting within.
pseudoisaac 