A little over a year ago, I hit a low that left me adrift and listless and terribly sad.
Instead of retreating into myself (my M.O.), I reached out to some friends and asked them to email me happy news. And because they know me, they sent me poems, or funny x-rays of themselves, or miniature essays about spring which they wrote for me on the spot.
I haven’t hit that same low in the same way. But I still revisit those poems sometimes.
If you’re low today (or if you’re not), read this one. Out loud. Slowly enough to enjoy it.
(Happy National Poetry Month.)