Five things PLUS a Poem

1. Frost sparkling on the grass.

2. Full moon glowing.

3. Fire glow orange edging the mountains.

4. Cool air in my lungs.

5. Birds flocking across the sky, reminds me of one of my poems I wrote when we we still living in Reston.

Am I Happy?

Thinking of our morning—

colored by a full moon,

sounded by Canadian geese

flying overhead. A strange

man waiting at the bus stop.

A new bus driver smiling.

You beside me. Walking.

Sitting. Waiting. This is my

life. Mornings come, moons

wax and wane, geese soar.

Strangers and bus driver

brush up against me, sometimes

flirting, sometimes not. A young

man asks me “Are you happy?”

I do not reply right away.

Happiness is hard work sometimes.

Other times it washes over you

with a peculiar, easy, sudden knowing.

Five things I thought about during my morning run:

1. Yes. I ran. I know what I said–that I wouldn't run every day. But I
won't be running tomorrow because I have early morning appointments–one
is a dr. appt., the other is a book signing. Someone from
Charlottesville is coming across the mountain for me to sign her books.
So, I'll be at Starbucks in Waynesboro tomorrow at 10–if anybody else
needs their books signed.
2. I took my daughters to get their pictures taken at the local Olan
Mills. They had this special running–which of course had all kinds of
small print and will end up costing me more money than the "special."
But the pictures are amazing. Especially Emma's photos. She's my kid–so
I think she is beautiful. Her sister is, too, and is photogenic, as
well. But something happens when Emma gets in front of the camera. It's
startling to me.
3. Up and down all night. I had forgotten to take my Benedryl. My dr.
told me to take children's Benedryl to help me sleep and it works–but
only if you REMEMBER to take it.

4. So many things are popping out of the ground suddenly. Spring is my
favorite season. I've written a poem about Spring. If I can find it,
I'll share it.

5. Can't wait to meet with the writing students at Waynesboro High
School.

Here is the poem:

Spring

Spring is a woman

who thaws slowly, leaving patches

of snow behind, teasing

with hints of green

and buds that promise

of daffodils, dandelions,

tulips, cherry blossoms—

beauty yet to come.

Her name is Oya. Her rivers

and streams rush, roar, rise,

and flow over rocks, sand, mud,

to kiss all life with wetness,

cool and crisp, driven

from the winter snow.

She gurgles with giggles.

Her names is Gaia. Smell her

rich, luscious soil. Feel the

contractions from her life-giving

core while she gives birth

to the music of robins,

Sparrows, and cardinals.

She labors, toils and pushes.

She dances, giggles, and flirts.

She is raw beauty.

Her name is Woman.

Five things I thoought about during my morning run:

1. Yes. I ran. I know what I said–that I wouldn't run every day. But I
won't be running tomorrow because I have early morning appointments–one
is a dr. appt., the other is a book signing. Someone from
Charlottesville is coming across the mountain for me to sign her books.
So, I'll be at Starbucks in Waynesboro tomorrow at 10–if anybody else
needs their books signed.
2. I took my daughters to get their pictures taken at the local Olan
Mills. They had this special running–which of course had all kinds of
small print and will end up costing me more money than the "special."
But the pictures are amazing. Especially Emma's photos. She's my kid–so
I think she is beautiful. Her sister is, too, and is photogenic, as
well. But something happens when Emma gets in front of the camera. It's
startling to me.
3. Up and down all night. I had forgotten to take my Benedryl. My dr.
told me to take children's Benedryl to help me sleep and it works–but
only if you REMEMBER to take it.

4. So many things are popping out of the ground suddenly. Spring is my
favorite season. I've written a poem about Spring. If I can find it,
I'll share it.

5. Can't wait to meet with the writing students at Waynesboro High
School.

Here is the poem:

Spring

Spring is a woman

who thaws slowly, leaving patches

of snow behind, teasing

with hints of green

and bus the promise

of daffodils, dandelions,

tulips, cherry blossoms—

beauty yet to come.

Her name is Oya. Her rivers

and streams rush, roar, rise,

and flow over rocks, sand, mud,

to kiss all life with wetness,

cool and crisp, driven

from the winter snow.

She gurgles with giggles.

Her names is Gaia. Smell her

rich, luscious soil. Feel the

contractions from her life-giving

core while she gives birth

to the music of robins,

Sparrows, and cardinals.

She labors, toils and pushes.

She dances, giggles, and flirts.

She is raw beauty.

Her name is Woman.

Five things I thoought about during my morning run:

1. Yes. I ran. I know what I said–that I wouldn't run every day. But I
won't be running tomorrow because I have early morning appointments–one
is a dr. appt., the other is a book signing. Someone from
Charlottesville is coming across the mountain for me to sign her books.
So, I'll be at Starbucks in Waynesboro tomorrow at 10–if anybody else
needs their books signed.
2. I took my daughters to get their pictures taken at the local Olan
Mills. They had this special running–which of course had all kinds of
small print and will end up costing me more money than the "special."
But the pictures are amazing. Especially Emma's photos. She's my kid–so
I think she is beautiful. Her sister is, too, and is photogenic, as
well. But something happens when Emma gets in front of the camera. It's
startling to me.
3. Up and down all night. I had forgotten to take my Benedryl. My dr.
told me to take children's Benedryl to help me sleep and it works–but
only if you REMEMBER to take it.

4. So many things are popping out of the ground suddenly. Spring is my
favorite season. I've written a poem about Spring. If I can find it,
I'll share it.

5. Can't wait to meet with the writing students at Waynesboro High
School.

Here is the poem:

Spring

Spring is a woman

who thaws slowly, leaving patches

of snow behind, teasing

with hints of green

and bus the promise

of daffodils, dandelions,

tulips, cherry blossoms—

beauty yet to come.

Her name is Oya. Her rivers

and streams rush, roar, rise,

and flow over rocks, sand, mud,

to kiss all life with wetness,

cool and crisp, driven

from the winter snow.

She gurgles with giggles.

Her names is Gaia. Smell her

rich, luscious soil. Feel the

contractions from her life-giving

core while she gives birth

to the music of robins,

Sparrows, and cardinals.

She labors, toils and pushes.

She dances, giggles, and flirts.

She is raw beauty.

Her name is Woman.

Five things I thought about during my morning walk, plus a poem:

1. Whoooa! Tink is pulling me along the ice.
2.This morning at 4, when I woke up and let Tink out, I was left
breathless by how beautiful my backyard looked in the moonlight. The
moon was clear and the whole sky was framed by icicles hanging from my
glass door.
3. I watched the Superbowl off and on last night while reading a
scrapbooking mystery.(So-so.) Emma has grown into quite the football
fan. Tess just wanted the food.
4. So there's more snow coming…Argghhhhh!
5. Tess is having a bit of a hard time about me going to New York. I
can't tell you how that rips at my guts. I don't know how women who
travel a lot manage this. Both girls have become very clingy with me
the past few day and I don't mind that at all. But it's affecting Tess
much harder.

I found the poem I wrote about yesterday. Eric asked that I NOT share
it because it's about him and kind of um, er personal. Oh well. So
here's another one, written about that same time–when we were living
in Reston.

Am I Happy?

Thinking of our morning—
colored by a full moon,
sounded by Canadian geese

flying overhead. A strange
man waiting at the bus stop.
An new bus driver smiling.

You beside me. Walking.
Sitting. Waiting. This is my
life. Mornings come, moons

wax and wane, geese soar.
Strangers and bus drivers
brush up against me, sometimes

flirting, sometimes not. A young
man asks me "Are you happy?"
I do not reply right away.

Happiness is hard work sometimes.
Other times it washes over you
with a peculiar, easy, sudden knowing.