Here we are in the Coviddays when paraphrase means why? The telly said ____died today and wear a mask if you're going someplace. My radar says "nobody's got IT" so the report reads "zero defects". The dreams are getting more vivid as time goes on and the edict to quarantine fits just right. Just don't take this as digging it all but it fits nicely into my idea of how to spend the outset of Spring.

Springtime in the house, spring don't . . .wobble? Spring is when a man's fancy turns to . . . underpantsy? Spring has sprung and I still am dumb. My pre-dream's stream races through the past and my thoughts seem to be lacking imagination, so why plop it here? Date-driven, not thought capture = yawn!

Re-run from the past:
Some of us have difficulty capturing the past week into words, not because of porous memories but because the details are so vapid for wordsmithing. How can you describe drinking coffee, watering lantanas, gathering input, attaching concepts to conclusions, ravishing comfort food then devouring crafted beverages, cannibalizing pixels to fashion a rendering, laundering body parts for cohabitation, cohabiting, dream scaping, rinse, repeat and sanctify - how do we make this deliciously enticing to read and digest? Not without some gift of exemplifying, the fecundity of seduction and the cryin'-out-loud persuasion of a promise delivered.