Rain last night, and this morning the grass hill that rolls down to the lake is quivering with water drops that are just beginning to catch the edge of sunlight.

I had my reading last night, and I hope it went well, I think it did. I read poems I've never read in public before, and may never again . . . it's always interesting, at these conferences, how I feel driven to treat readings in such a different way. In a way I'm relieved not to be hawking Calendar so directly. Yet I lay myself open when I risk reading these new and not necessarily crowd-pleasing pieces. All I can do is hope for the best.