Wherever we’re going
is Monday morning
Wherever we’re coming from
is Mother’s lap.
Maxine Kumin, Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, has died at 88. I loved her work, especially this poem. You can hear her read it below, or at the Poetry Foundation.
Principles of Design…as Revealed in “Nancy”
Spinning around again
Be Like the Bird
Another Announcement: Carnival of Children’s Literature