Yesterday, was my eighth straight day
of administering state tests and makeups.
Then I attended a required two-hour professional development session.
Then came home to two teenagers watching Netflix
while their sinkful of dirty dishes waited for me.
I didn't feel up for an argument so I did the dishes (bangily!)
then put the dog on her leash and headed out for walk
in the last few minutes of that grayish light
that happens right before night comes.
It was cold and windy
(the high tomorrow, our first day of Spring Break,
is supposed to be 23 degrees)
I was so tired
trudging along behind the dog
picking my feet up only high enough
to keep from tripping over
the very bumpy hundred year-old sidewalks
which have caused me to take several knee-skinning spills.
I rounded the corner
at 23rd and Birch
And then I saw them.
The very first daffodils of spring.
I stopped and just stood there
breathing in all that yellow joy
while the dog snuffed impatiently
at the end of the leash.
And I thought of one of my favorite, favorite spring poems,
Ralph Fletcher's "Daffodils."
His book, Ordinary Things
is about 15 years old.
It's still one of my favorite spring poetry collections.
I share this poem every year about this time.
They put on
a little show
simply by being
faded brown barn.
from Ordinary Things: Poems from a Walk in Early Spring
This morning, I got up and wrote
Just a little. A haiku. That morphed into a baby poem.
That might become something else later on.
When I have more time to play with it.
i breathe daffodils.
that sunshine yellow soul juice
they promise me spring
some people search for
their leprechaun's pot of gold
at the end of the rainbow
I hunt for daffodils
that soul's gold
Some people collect gold.
I collect gold too.
form my golden collection.
If you want more poetry, head over to Poetry Friday at Greg Pincus' Gotta Book.
Greg hosts an amazing poetry celebration every April.
Happy Friday! Happy Spring!