Yesterday's weather forecast (partly sunny) was nothing at all like yesterday's actual weather (all-day drizzle and fog). So, after an early morning walk through the mist, I lit a fire and spent much of the rest of the day in a corner of the couch expanding a 10-line draft into a 3-page narrative poem. I am delighted with it: I figured out how to purvey a few lively characters, construct a structurally eloquent arc, and embed a useful trope (misunderstood vocabulary) for dissecting the connections/misconnections between children and adults. There's still lots of work to do--narrative poems always require much chiseling and sanding--but I feel like ten thousand bucks . . . like I paddled across a big river . . . like I climbed a steeple. Such days are few and far between, and this one was magnificent.

I hope I'll find a bit of time today for the aforementioned sanding and chiseling. At the moment, the fog and drizzle is still going strong, but I plan to go for an early walk anyway. Yesterday's was so productive: golden wet gingko trees, polka-dotted dogs, cemetery murk. Such are the joys of temporary joblessness . . . I don't have to save my best hours for editing but can waste them enthusiastically.