"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,/And what I assume you shall assume,/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.//I loafe and invite my soul,/I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass."
Thursday, October 1, 2009
No matter where the planets wander in their journey around the sun, fall doesn’t really arrive until the night you actually consider putting on socks. That was last night. I didn’t wear socks to bed, but I did consider it.