A beautiful day; some sort of balancing out for the delayed springtime. A low self-esteem; some sort of yingyang for the flood of things done. Alliteration, assonance, similes tripping off the tongue like yowls from a cat in heat. Speaking of whom, she sits there, watching the birds, stalking them from the window, waiting to burst through the screen and plummet to the ground, unless she can grab hold of a particularly strong finch who will keep her aloft...