The Professor Starts Her Summer
Rise in the dark and make the tea,
read a little, sipping. The rain
has stopped; the windows may
be opened wide, the air is rich
with possibilities. An early walk,
some weeding, before day's heat
sets in. The words finally rising
to the surface, tumbling out.
Water and dirt and brightening
day, coming together in quiet
fecundity. The seeds were laid
through the long winter, yes,
even in endless hours of grading,
explaining once again the need
for, please, at least a line or two
of evidence. Now the little birds
are launched, and it is time
to dig deep, to turn the soil,
and see what comes up.