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.