I was going to say I’m excited about two things this summer, and then I forgot one.
One is coming Monday. The other exciting thing isn’t until Thur., August 11 at 10:15 a.m. — the Parade of Sail will return to our waters to accompany a couple of tall ships.
There are other things coming up in August that are worthy of excitement, but I guess I mean “exciting” insofar as that which will save some of my marbles, or add some. Poetry saves; even one tall ship or schooner adds.
Seriously, everything but those sails and masts and graceful dips and risings fall away until my eyes can see no more.
As for poetry, I am now the proud owner of 4 poets’ books, not counting husband’s aunt’s ancient archaic tome (nor granddaughter’s entry in an anthology — nor my own in a different one, nor two online poetesses’ soft-covers).
Robert Frost. John Paul II. Mary Oliver — and, come Monday, Jane Kenyon!
Ah, just in time, I’ve found the only pair of readers that are the right strength and haven’t been stepped on!