I always have to pick out a favorite: “2024_0329: Losing an elder, a keeper of language and culture, is like a library going up in flames overnight.”

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Thanks for introducing me to the Robert Love poem.

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2024_0403: No longer missing the blooms of a more southern latitude, because they arrived today in a favorite human's month of sentences.

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I honestly don't know how you do it, make every month phenomenal with sentences. The contrast between day one and day two is everything.

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"2024_0311: Plans change and the day fails to improve."

This feels so applicable to so many folks right now. A lot happening.

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Once again -or even- as usual, I’m inspired by your words and the words that follow here in the responses.

I will follow this inspiration as I guide my student teachers through their last term (I’m one of those professor guys who walks beneath green maples…) of student teaching by asking them to write a one-sentence journal that may focus on schooling but doesn’t have to. I’ll invite them to share at our bi-weekly meetings and maybe collect them into something portable when we’re finished. And of course, I will participate.

If I may share some excerpts of yours as models, I’d be grateful.

The Robert Love poem is fantastic. I will share it with a friend who used to head the English dept at MSU because he will agree and he will laugh.

Lastly, I am also encouraged by your mentioning of roadwork. Thank you for including it.



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A saucy edition (particularly 20240301) and a time of change. I’m sorry to hear about the lost elder.

A few to share in return:

- 20240302: I love the moment when the effort becomes muscle memory.

- 20240303: I love unabashedly singing in a room full of friends.

- 20240304: It feels good to have things to be doing.

- 20240305: All-or-nothing mindset leaves little room for incremental progress.

- 20240306: Yes, I would in fact like to get back on the metaphorical horse.

- 20240307: It’s amazing how physical pain lights the thought stream on fire, too.

- 20240310: Hindsight is 20/20, but I wish there was a way to clarify my foresight, too.

- 20240312: It’s a good sign when the place I’ve been struggling to be becomes even more appealing to stay at, even when I’m allowed to go home.

- 20240313: Sometimes we really are two ships passing each other, even in daylight.

- 20240314: Pre-existing cabin fever only slightly sours the delight of a much-needed spring snowstorm.

- 20240317: There’s something magical that happens when you’re on no one else’s schedule but your own (and maybe the dog’s).

- 20240318: A bluebird sky is a blessing for the day, and an owl in a tree is a blessing for the night.

- 20240319: Losing a single wheel of an 8 wheel set feels like it should be a metaphor, but it’s just plain annoying.

- 20240320: The crocuses have declared that yes, spring is here.

- 20240323: Funny how thinking less and experiencing more leads to better results, at least on wheels.

- 20240324: The 27 pelicans on the lake are a real blessing for the whole neighborhood.

- 20240325: Champagne powder swish soothes the ears and soul.

- 20240326: When the universe suggests the kinder option, accept it.

- 20240327: And just as the pelicans depart, the phoebes begin to arrive.

-20240331: I love when my respiratory system becomes a raging snot river, said no one ever.

Happy spring!

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My favorite: “What made you want to write poetry?” the 11yo asks and without so much as a pause for breath I hear myself answering, “Just being alive and in love with this big, beautiful world.”

I’ve started learning to paint with watercolor for the same reason. We have so much beauty available; I hope to play a part in drowning out the ugliness.

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Thank you, Chris.

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Your sentence about the elder — yes, exactly that, and I’m so sorry.

You may be slightly comforted by the idea that being astounded in a vintage ballroom by several score of rude people is probably slightly better than being astounded in a vintage bathroom by several score of rude people, which is what I originally read it as.

Thanks so much for the stunning Love poem — I’ll go order his book.

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That one hit me too "Losing an elder, a keeper of language and culture, is like a library going up in flames overnight."



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So much richness here. Thank you for sharing! I love your sentences. I do have a question though, what is “road work“?

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Cleveland Indians... and I graduated from a college in Ohio whose teams were was known as the Miami Redskins. Later, that was changed to the Miami Red Hawks. But I am here to reprise my take on this subject, from July of 2020... "Once again, the NFL Washington Redskins are facing pressure to drop their Redskins mascot name and find something less racially inflammatory. It occurs to me that, with Trump in the White House and MAGA on the rise, it might be time to give whitey a taste of his own medicine… the Washington Rednecks. In the stands, I picture heavily armed scruffy bikers wearing camo, sporting neck tattoos, guzzling Bud Lite and screaming the Trump battle cry, "Fuck you!" The cheerleaders are rail-thin, bruised, meth-addled danger bunnies wearing squeaky-short denim cut-offs and American flag crop tops. This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but… the finger."

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03/31 Oh, no! The much maligned magpie, flicker and starling are insulted! Politicians remind me more of ravens and crows, with the flock labels "unkindness" and "murder" applicable.

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2024_0304 made me weepy. that Robert Love poem is great. and hell yeah BIRD SEASON

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“If poems tasted like that, poets would earn their keep.”



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