I hope you're seeing the slow, subtle signs of spring thaw like we are here. I'm starting to believe that winter won't last forever, Narnia-style, after all.
My parents' (and my) longtime neighbor just passed away well into his 90s. He was generally in great health, but he slipped and fell in the grocery store, breaking 6 ribs. His body wasn't in any shape to rebound from that. I keep thinking about that, how a body that has had the fortitude to survive over 90 years can be undone so quickly. It's also strange to think of him as mortal--he's been old as long as I've been alive; I never thought of him as being able to depart the earth even if he wanted to.
I've been contemplative about that and about bodies in general. Corporeality is loosely the subject of my second poetry manuscript, which I'm working on now. It's alternating between blissfully easy and painfully hard to write. A lot of new existential questions were just raised by my finally reading Jhumpa Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth. It made me miss Boston terribly.
I've slacked off on my reading of new poetry lately, so I'm afraid I can't recommend anything fresh and exciting. Musically, there's plenty of love to go around. Daniel Bjarnason's Processions has been getting a lot of love from my speakers, and I've spent a lot of time thinking about Scout Niblett's The Calcination of Scout Niblett, along with breaking in Xiu Xiu's newest album.
Take care, everyone, and enjoy whatever sun comes.