Looking out the window you think it should be warm with all that sunshine everywhere, but then you notice the wind and you wonder. One step out the door and you wish you had thought to wear your heavy jacket. The wind is made of knives that cut through your clothing and your skin to slide their cold blades along your bones and chill you right to your core. Don't you love spring?
I like your little story, Jennifer, especially the man who teaches his daughters to have empathy. Your piece is very vivid.
April 7--Jan Vermeer, The Astronomer. One hand outstretched to touch the heavens, he breathes the rarefied air of discovery. No longer held captive by the teachings of grizzled man in Roman collars, he sees the truth of the lights in the sky. His charts of his observations crackle with the energy of new ideas as he leaps to the stars and banishes the ancient tales of hunters and prey chasing across the night. Drunk with the wine of new thought, the astronomer levels his gaze across the miles, seeing the past and the future all at the same time.
Sorry I've been so short the last few days, but since April is national poetry month, maybe we should consider them little poems in narrative form.
--Barbara
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