Unexpected

to come across such a wondrous patch.  Luscious clumps of daffodils.  It feels like a planned memorial.  Few other wonders blooming at this time.  Sacred.  Like a meal shared with a stranger. Like a stranger being touched by one of your poems.  Wondrous, indeed.  Hopeful, too.

Narrative without title

Is that possible?  Like a meal without food?  Like a poem never spoken, never danced?  No, this is a narrative sans title but with lots of flavor & flair.

Rain on the way or fashion statement?

No matter the weather, grey is always an upbeat color for dress.  Add a pinch of blue.  Consider this pepper.  Or salt.  With food, a white shallow bowl sirens food like nothing else. Consider squid ink pasta.  By the way, have you written poems with silver ink on black or charcoal paper? Quite dandy.  Somethings warrant repeating.

Present tense

Of all seasons, Spring is the one in present tense.  Immediate & unfolding.  Makes me think of fava beans.  Makes me want to read Chiyo-ni.

Unformed possibilities

That covers it all -- from meal to paper for poetry.  Yup not much else to say but it's important every once in a while to look up.  Stretch the neck.  If need be, squint.  Look deeply where the moon will be later.  Write that down.

Those secret & unlikely companionships

Who would think Delicata (squash) and tulips would be pals?  Well, just look at this photo; they are on the circle together.  Perhaps, not in the contours you are most familiar, but companions nevertheless.  Makes me think of unlikely companions in a dish.  I've been using fruit in unlikely ways --cold & cooked-- to salads, green and otherwise.  Now, I'm thinking, are there words which are unlikely companions?

Bark, paper & peeling paint

Trees have color so why shouldn't they have peeling paint? Besides, light splashes trees with color, and bark is amazing -- it's properties & tactile qualities.  I think it's from bark that my love of paper sprung.  And in the kitchen, you ask?  Cinnamon sticks, of course.