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Picnic in the shade
Sunday, every Sunday, let's have a community picnic. It's probably been a long week, and it's lovely to have a few minutes to sit back and relax and enjoy some good conversation in a less formal space. Feel free to bring something for the Picnic Basket - a poem you liked this week, a thought you had or something you experienced, or even something completely unrelated to poetry whatsoever that you just feel like sharing. Just take a moment to say hello, and maybe have a bite to eat; no one is going anywhere fast, and the shade promises some relief from the everyday heat. Let’s get to know each other a bit better, here under the branches of the poet’s tree.
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I took this yesterday driving up to Maine -- the first motorcyclist, the one driving, is a leather-tanned whip-thin older man, while the blonde woman riding behind has her nose very deep into a paperback book. They were going about 75 miles an hour on the highway. I can only salute her powers of concentration - I never saw her look up from her book once while the pair passed me.
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