Sigh...
I should have turned in earlier. But now all this talk of poetry, as it always does, has made me by turns wistful, sullen, teary and oddly, mutedly joyful. I usually try to put my feelings to bed before I climb in. But thanks to George Faludy, Ezra Pound, Billy Collins, they are running all over the place. Beddy-Bye Land will not be a peaceful place tonight. Sigh...