This morning arrived on little cat feet, sparking memories of low-lying fog in the fields back home. (Well – any place that actually has an abundance of humidity!) Early morning fog always feels like a nice way to ease into a day, and it also makes me think of Carl Sandburg’s poem, which leads me to ponder tenth grade English class.
That class was a mash-up of seniors, juniors, and sophomores either fulfilling a requirement or truly hoping for inspiration in the greatest study possible – the English language! My teacher hated me. The class was boring. However, I persisted in writing and churned out great poetic works, hoping to share the stage with the likes of Sandburg. I offer a gem for your amusement In the “Haiku of the Day.”