Last days of March

So, so so - I haven't been sick; I've no excuse for not venturing here. Has the river run my thoughts off? Three chickens have been stolen and murdered; I am down to two, red and black. One death I blame on the hawk, whose swoop I caught right off my deck in mid afternoon. Another bird's abduction was interrupted by Mr Li, the chicken's body left in the front yard. Red feathers still mingle with the grass, the body I disposed of on a low pyre up Red Bud. Most recently in the dusk, a black hen who was prone to escaping the yard, was taken - no sign left. I think a coyote. 

Otherwise, a good month, more sun than gray (the winter has been a dark one). And no heavy snow as last year that was so destructive. I do have a continuing skin cancer saga: a squamous cell just above my right ankle (on inside) - first detected around Thanksgiving! Biopsied, than tumor dug out, than when new squamous cell tumor popped up in January, cut out - now pathology report says still cells in area of wound. I am scheduled for MOHS surgery in May and plastic surgery to close wound. Wish it might be sooner, but the doctors are busy. I may have lived too long in this skin suit.

I did complete early a 40 day lent challenge to dispose of 40 items in house. But I am behind in my effort to write a poem a day. Seems my priorities have become domesticated? My paper-mache piece I began in September is as it was in November when once I worked on it. Am I uninspired and dispassionate, or just old and dull? Or despairing of the world?