Self Portrait with note, numbers, and the power of two feet

When work gets extremely busy with busyness, I play a game, much like plucking petals off a daisy-- the decision for love or not-- something for them, something for me, or not. I've been waiting for news by mail, email; instead have received hand writ notes scribbled and sent under my office door. Some for me, some for the others who share my space. All S.O.S. All given a roll of lifesavers, in memory of Hart Crane. So far, the flu hasn't torpedoed my classes. Not a sniffle. Midterms this week. Next week we roll into the second half of the semester. The leaves are changing. I roasted and put by a bushel red peppers last weekend and made another apple pie, which is all gone. Went to see My One and Only with my sisters and family. The leaves are changing and some have fallen. I've been sending work out. I've been preparing reports, grading papers, reading books. I've been making lists. I want to walk and walk and walk along the lake. I don't want to be carrying anything. On Sunday's walk, I saw common loons, mergansers, Canada geese riding the lake waves.There were birders at work, hunched over their high powered scopes, scribbling a line or two on their clipboards. The leaves, blowing away. Yesterday the first heavy frost came. The basil and cilantro shriveled up. We're putting things away.