Friday, February 3, 2017

Onward with Poetry

The first two weeks of the Spring semester have been full of poetry, writing, discussions. For the most part, my classrooms have been politics-free, a relief for me as well as for my students, a space in which to exercise one's intellect, rather than wallowing in the stupid and useless. Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, Wallace Stevens, Derek Walcott, W.B. Yeats, E.A. Robinson (the ending of "Richard Cory" gets 'em every time)...

A brief respite from the books today; a walk in the frozen park, the big lake almost all ice, though the ice is thin. Hepatica leaves on the forest floor are getting a little sheen to them; in about six weeks, the flowers will be out, the first spring blooms.

But we have miles to go before we sleep...


ice topography
if I could write
love letters like that


  1. I guess we need to go check hepatica hill before the spring burns occur. No ice designs here, no ice. Yay!

    1. Yes! Keep checking for our favorite early spring bloom! I'm sure we haven't seen the last of winter here, but I'm counting the days...