March

Weeks 5 and 6 of the semester are particularly trying. The routine that isn't quite routine is about to be made less routine by midterms. Even in classes in which I do not give an exam, everyone has the midterm blues. Spring break will bring the whole show to a halt, and then we begin anew, with only eight weeks until finals.

In my own creative work, I have put what may be the finishing touches on my new collection of poems, capping off a little over a year's worth of time wondering about the mind of Lavinia Dickinson. Two of these poems are being published in a journal, and by early summer I hope to have the manuscript off to be read by a publisher. Fifteen of my haiga will be posted on a haiku website sometime this spring.

And what's happening in the world? A madman for a President. (For the first time in our history we can say that: "We have a madman for a President. And we elected him.") Prejudice gaining ground. A whole new tide of pollution about to be unleashed.

Can a tide be unleashed?

Forsythia, are you certain you want to bloom this year?

I wish I could go for a long walk. I wish I could sleep for ten hours straight.

And that there is the story of early March.

*
rushing the season
in every winter dream
spring birds