I am sitting in a room at a round table, waiting for people to come to me with their questions about writing. The afternoon is strangely balmy for October. I have homework to do.
There is a fragment of a poem on the wall, which I will write here for you:
Life, you're beautiful
(I say)
you just couldn't get more
fecund,
more befogged
or nightengaley,
more anthillfull
or sproutsprouting.
-symbowka
2 comments:
i like our blog. it's random and i can share things that might otherwise get lost because they are not important enough for our "real" conversations.
totally.
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