It is National Poetry Month, which means absolutely nothing to anyone who isn't greatly interested in poetry. But I have to admit I feel a bit of glee at reading all the po-blogs and po-sites that are celebrating. It is like being the wallflower who suddenly is asked to dance. A lovely feeling.
If only I could transcend that feeling into my own poetry.
As the weather perks up into the 80s, so does my mood. I want to plant green things in the ground. Make iced tea. Or frozen orange juice pops. I'd even take a mint julep.
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