There's something painterly about today's sky and water--perhaps the colors, perhaps the defined borders among the colors; I'm not sure.

Temperature-wise, it's a mild morning: heat is on the way, the air knows it, and I'm already imagining a swim.

Yesterday's performance of "Lake" was just as well attended as "Slate"--a few locals even came back: they said they wanted to know what would happen next, which is so gratifying.

Most moving to me personally, my friend Angela brought along one of my sons' teachers at the Harmony School. She taught a combined second- and third-grade classroom, so had each boy for two full school years. She knew them well. She knew me well because I was the school music teacher at that time. When I asked if I could bring poetry into her classroom, she welcomed me with open arms. My favorite memory is teaching the kids the sword-fight scene from Romeo and Juliet. I thinned speeches but I didn't change the language: the children had the real words in their mouth. I knew enough not to give 7 and 8 year olds actual prop swords; everything had to depend on physicality: entrances and exits and responses to verbal challenges. They loved it. I loved it. Their teacher loved it. That was a happy day for everyone.

And this summer my older son is getting married. The elementary school was so long ago. And his teacher came to listen to me read a poem about little boys playing baseball on the field outside the school. I feel a trembling. Of course I feel a trembling.