Not writing

Some days you just can’t write. Take today, for instance.

I wanted to write about the imminent rude surge of spring. Fluent, florid, purple stuff, it was going to be. Poetic and funny all at once, full of energy and joy – a call to action, inspiring you to get out there and breathe in the air and smell it and just live in the spring as it unfolds around you and holds you in its not-quite-as-warm-as-you’d-like-actually embrace.

And yet all I have is this:

magnolia fully out

primroses pert

cyclamen fading

blossom all over the place

redwings gone

blackbird sings

chiffchaff!