Yesterday I conceived and finished another poem, which, like the one I wrote earlier this week, also arrived nearly fully formed. I'm afraid to jinx matters by talking about them, but I could be sliding into the zone, which is a place I haven't seen for a long time.

This morning's cloudy weather is forecast to descend into rain, and then heavy rain, and then wind and heavy rain, but I have three library books and the ingredients for minestrone, and I will try to avoid thinking about the government.

I can't stop marveling about the poems. They flowed from my thoughts like water. The act of writing felt like benediction. I'm grateful.