Traveling makes routine impossible. I am obviously a creature of routine, because while I had time, I couldn't put together any poems. (Or whatever...) I am a creature of habit, but when traveling I give up normal life and go with the flow. I think people make their biggest mistake traveling when they try and live like they do at home. There is probably a message in that for coping with Finland, but it's hard to give up everything all the time...

So, I am in the hole several poems, but let's get on with it. This is today's offering:

Snowflakes meet snowdrops,
seagulls squawk from the rooftops.
All portend spring, but...

On April 3rd I tried scratching out a poem, but here is all I managed...

At last the rain
Rain came at last
& the streets ran
with like


Frogs sang under the rain

Then I gathered myself for another assault:

When rain Rain came at last
(greeted by frog song)
& the medley of
thunder,

Okay... I realized there were issues with this crap.

I know Cliches are to be resisted
but I can't help feeling
feelings tucked into drawers
be new, be something never seen before
be more, be better than anyone else...

So when I say the sky weeps with me
you may toss it into the trash
with all the other things already thought.
But it does not make it less real

So, maybe I needed to try something else:

Frogs croak it,
sing it in the rain
plants shape it

Or how about:

Frogs croak it, sing it in the rain
plants shape it, bend around its form
&

"Stay, stay," frogs croak.
"Go, go."

Frogs entice me (sing a song of summer)
rain lulls me to accept the thunder
plip-plip patter of plinking dots

I love
the frog
that croaks in the rain
& love the rain
that runs down the street