After
lunch today I listened in on a reading from Dublin (Ireland, not Ohio) for
Poetry Ireland, A Celebration of Women Poets marking Brigid’s Day &
Black History Month. Four poets I did not know, two American and two Irish.
The readings were very good, fresh poems, a discussion midway through followed
by more poems. A perfect dessert. Ursula curled up beside me and listened, the voices
were soft and even so she didn’t mind the unknown women speaking. Just an hour, just a perfect hour.
Verb: meanders a circuitous journey, especially an aimless one. Noun: (of a speaker or text) proceed aimlessly or with little purpose; (of a person) wander at random. Orgin late 16th century (as a noun): from Latin maeander, from Greek Maiandros, the name of a river. (A favorite -- A meander is one of a series of regular sinuous curves, bends, loops, turns, or windings in the channel of a river, stream, or other watercourse.)
Monday, February 1, 2021
"like ten tiny ostriches in the sand" *
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Enter freely and of your own will
Classes were scheduled to start on Tuesday, January 16th, unfortunately, that first day saw the school closed due to cold and snow. So all c...
-
I wonder if you would care, your missing so evident in my everyday world already. The last poem I sent, the last picture. the last ping I as...
-
There was a moment on the way to Charles de Gaulle airport Thursday morning when I looked up to see Jerry laughing with a young black man on...
Oh yes! It's Imbolc! The clouds are salmon waves over the Ruby Mountains as the sunrise approaches.
ReplyDeleteThe Fire Gilders. I like that! and it's recorded so I can go watch. Thank you!