Bless our hearts to hear
in the breaking
of the bread the song
of the universe!

Before this Thanksgiving ends,
I say thanks
for the most beautiful
week of my life.

Dill is,
in the end,
so poetic.

A tree full
of cedar waxwings
as I was heading
into work

The golden finches
are getting their golden back!
C’mon warm weather!

pas de changement.

Le pain commencer à moissir.
Sur le pain, la moissisure est blanche et
ressemble la laine de cotton,
On ajoute un peu d’eau.

La moissisure commencer à changer de couleur.
Elle est plus noir que hier

TRANSLATION

no change

The bread is starting to mold.
On the bread, the mold is white and
resembles cotton wool,
We’ll add a little water.

The mold is starting to change color.
It is more black than yesterday

I am knit of
glacial till
and
caliche clay

Not a fortune
Again
I’d like the whole world to know
     I am
          on my Paris
Pianos and banjos help
Sky blue sky
The sweet smell
     fills my kitchen
More banjos to help the day go by…. This time,
     Russian
          (Я люблю пятницу)
I could live a life of todays
Finally, a real fortune!

I JUST GOT A CUPCAKE!!!
Thanks, Saint Valentine.
Who knew that
martyrdom
could taste so SWEET?!?