Four years ago a good friend came over in the evening and we planned to stay up all night watching the election. By 11 pm, it was only 2 pm in California, and with every half hour our struggle to stay awake lost more drive, and we were none the wiser on the election's outcome. This time I'm going to bed on time, and hoping for the best. A German colleague told me yesterday it really doesn't matter who's president because the president's power is quite limited, but even if that were true, it is important to vote if only to say what kind of world you want to have.
Anyway, happy November. I insanely joined in the poem-a-day writing mania. So far my five poems have been -
Postcard to a Nemesis / Fitting Room Mirror / Tracks / Scant Snow / Salem
Today I'm shooting for a poem about tea, like one of my
Tea Leaves fragments, some of which are in my
chapbook.
Oolong
On the sill, rain rubs the spoons.
It’s been raining for years
all afternoon.
1 comment:
I love your tea leaves. And your chapbook. Sharing link with my son, who knows a woman designing tea things....
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