The pace of things quickened. I took an under-the-weather break on Friday in my last ditch effort to rest before the avalanche of tasks began its plummet into my face.
Now: events, events, classes, conference presentation, group projects, online magazine debut, research paper, events, dinners, receptions.
This means: approximately 5% of the brain is currently devoted to poetry. The rest, other things. Demands, requirements, applications, letters, events, a residency.
I need a nap.
In other news, revising a manuscript, I noticed for the first time in 17 revisions that the first two poems both used the phrase "dark soil." I cut it out.