Trolling Facebook memories for writing fragments

I love exploring Facebook memories. I find bits of writing and dross that never quite made it to my blog. I often troll through the kruft, and find bits of salvageable writing buried in the comments. It like finding hidden Easter eggs in your software. It’s embedded there, just because. Random acts of delight. I had thought, that since I had been through a year’s cycle of Facebook memory posts a few times over, I had found all the gems. I couldn’t have been more wrong. In this case, a fleeting moment from 2018 still brings back the magic of finding two fallen bluebirds in the grass. Penelope de Montagne had unexpectedly died, and we were all reeling from the shock, I was teaching an overfull schedule against impossible deadlines. Burning the candle at both ends. No wonder the poem never made it to my blog. Maybe this time I will write that poem. But I need to tele-teach in a few moments. Some thing remain the same. Some thing are unimaginable. Who could ever have imagined we’d all be sequestered like this two years later? Sometimes I remember random dream fragments, like this morning, when I looked at the desk. Moving sewing supplies, scraps of paper, spoon and knife. Random, meaningless acts in and of themselves. Nothing tangible to write about. A fleeting moment. I realized that had already dreamed of this moment in time. I e already been here, done that.  But lately I have not wanted to remember my dreams, always so dark, no way out. Pointless. Sequestered. And yet, here we are.

• TWO BLUEBIRD MORNING