I am convinced that the first lyric poem was written at night, and that the moon was witness to the event and that the event was witness to the moon.

~ Mary Ruefle

Crouching in the swamp, took some photos of the skunk cabbage, because they were green, life-alive green and lit by the light of the sun. There is little that is new and fresh that can be seen and noticed and recognized in my woods. One daughter who has ventured out by car assures me the trees of the streets and yards have come to color and life in buds, but I haven’t seen them with my own eyes yet this spring. I was so grateful to walk in this sunny morning. The brook has overflowed, and other trails are over-puddled in water. I walked calf-deep through one big mass of water, it was icy, but tolerable, and once home, I left my boots out to dry in the sun. I worked on a poem from the letters for tonight, and still I’m wondering what I’m doing and if it’s worth doing, and I got some helpful feedback, but I still don’t know where it’s going. After dinner, I was sitting in the living room with the girls, and one said, “Oh! The moon!” and so I went out into the yard and witness the white plate above the pink clouds in the blue sky and thought of newborns: the sky the color of newborn, above the meadow. On my walk I had a long talk on the phone with a dear friend. Chunks of a day go into feeling assured that dear ones, near and far, are safe and well. Tonight I made a a corn and potato chowder and popovers. They came eagerly, bowls in hand, to the big pot on the stove, and the popovers, they said, were just right.

This moon tonight looks full, but it’s truly full tomorrow. It’s a pink moon, a super moon.

April: Pink Moon

By Vigdis Hocken

The name Pink Moon comes from the pink flowers – phlox – that bloom in spring. Other names for this Full Moon are Sprouting Grass Moon, Fish Moon, Hare Moon, Egg Moon, and Paschal Moon.

I will choose to call this moon the Egg Moon.