Another Monday morning. This week I'll be undertaking a new editing project: the prizewinning manuscript in an AWP fiction contest. I've also got student essays to read, and I'm hoping to keep working on a set of linked poems currently titled "Sonnets for the Arsonist." I'll probably finish reading Dr. Thorne this morning, and I'll probably copy out a few poems from Gary Snyder's Turtle Island. I plan to go for a long afternoon walk. I should find a new yoga teacher.

Yesterday I bought a bunch of tulips, and now they sit in a stone jar on the coffee table--arrow-leaved, tightly budded, with a pale hint of future orange. Outside much of the snow has melted, and the garden looks like a wet dog. I wish I could plant something.