No rain, a rippling breeze, and strangely warm. I have to remove layers, walking on the muddy, soft ground. Last night Charlie barked crazily at 2:30 a.m. The coyotes, awake in the warm woods, were howling and trying to call out the dogs, perhaps they were thinking it was spring. I wouldn’t let Charlie out and he finally went back to sleep. When I woke this morning I opened my two latest poems, made tiny improvements, then recorded them both to listen on my walk. The first, the cheese puff poem, with a new title seemed, as I heard myself read the recording as I walked by the river seemed just right. The other, the dog party poem, was clearly missing something, and as I kept walking I figured out the missing line. I kept walking and stayed out longer than I have lately, grateful for the warmth, lighthearted, to feel the poems working.