Yesterday's fire alarm was a tocsin in more than just the literal sense; I should have left then and there, rather than sticking it out for the whole day after that.
I should've posted this one in April, when I first had the urge. Now it just makes me sad. (Well, sadder.)
I wanted to speak at length about
the happiness of my body and the
delight of my mind for it was
April, night, a
full moon and--
but something in myself or maybe
from somewhere other said: not too
many words, please, in the
muddy shallows the
frogs are singing.
[Mary Oliver, 'April', from Swan: Poems and Prose Poems; the title quotation is from a poem by Hopewell Syprien]
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