Easter was a quiet day. I went for a long walk in the fog and then cleaned the house. Tom worked at his desk and then went for a long walk in the drizzle. I listened to baseball on the radio and folded towels. For dinner I made rack of lamb, roasted potatoes and asparagus, chocolate angel-food cake with strawberries. We sat under a couch blanket and watched Brief Encounter.

The slow rain continues--spatter and lull, spatter and lull, as sea fog tumbles over the rooftops. Street lamps blur the air like paintings. A poem draft is rising in my throat.

Outside the kitchen door, white flowers glow against stone. A white cat hunches on the stairs. The day holds its breath, but the birds are already singing.