Saturday, April 20, 2019

Yesterday was an unexpected weather gift: warm, humid, rainless. While Tom painted trim in the kitchen, I walked to yoga; I walked to the market. I planted kohlrabi and fennel seedlings. I composed a lesson on poem revision. I finished editing a book chapter. Later I sat in my new courtyard and drank tea and read a book. I listened to a baseball game and made dinner.

Now the showers have finally moved in, but the air is still heavy and warm. This will be a good rain.

I've got a poem out today in the Maine Arts Journal--one featuring a minor character in Beowulf.  I was sad when I wrote it, and it makes me sad again every time I reread it.

1 comment:

David (n of 49) said...

"...when his gods betray him, I will be / here still...A tale will rise like a shadow from the fens."