There is not ever enough poetry in the world.  Here is some for your (hopefully) warm spring day:

BIRD

It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air –
and there, night came in.

When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography –
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.

– Pablo Neruda

♦♦♦

I have BIG plans for the 3-day weekend.  I don’t know what they are yet as the first thing on my to-do list for this evening is ‘make plans for the weekend,’ but I bet they will be great.  Hopefully they will involve home organizing/cleaning, sewing sewing sewing (embroidery included in this category), sleeping perhaps more than would seem normal for a human being, walking around in the out of doors (cicadas might limit this),  talking to my mom on the phone and generally relaxing and pretending the world doesn’t exist.  I will probably watch P.S. I Love You as an emotional outlet (and because it’s a good movie).  I will hopefully have plenty of time to read Deathless because so far I am enjoying it immensely (it’s like poetry in it’s own way).

What I will not be doing is work, returning your phone calls (unless you’re my mom or sister), or sewing anything that looks like this:

I did include a link in case you want to sew it.  But I will think less of you if you do.  I’m fascinated with it, like a horror movie you can’t look away from.