Clear blue skies today and trees just coming into leaf, the sort of yellowish green I think Frost had in mind. Anyway, the poem came to me as I walked home from the lovely little lunch I treated myself to. Going out to lunch is an indulgence, but R is not coming home until late, so this makes up for dinner alone, or more likely, no dinner alone. I ordered a caesar salad with grilled shrimp, but instead of romaine (I think some of you might call it cos lettuce) it was made with shredded brussels sprouts. Brussels sprouts are very popular and appear on menus in all sorts of new ways, some more successful than others.
I had a glass of Riesling with my salad and finished with an espresso. Then I sailed gaily home thinking alternately that life was grand and I should have wine with lunch more often.