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alembic

  1. Sunday tweet: "We keep coming back and coming back/To the real: to the hotel instead of the hymns/That fall upon the wind. - Wallace Stevens
  2. Show your love for trees beyond that hug. Consider the roots and make your words branch out in the Festival of Trees http://bit.ly/41RZGC
  3. twittering from the DROID - Got over my iPhone envy.
  4. http://twitpic.com/ojq6z - The first shot with the new DROID
  5. Red berries, bright constellations in the feeble mists of morning. It's a bird's world out there, in wordless song.
  6. @Morning_Porch Happy anniversary -- raising my coffee in a toast to your two years of mornings on the porch!
  7. I play with a Tarot deck this morning but, I keep dealing myself the cards with sword-pierced or wand-laden figures. Some psychic I am. Not.
  8. Just clicked through photos by a master of the art of holding still and letting go of the moment at the same time http://bit.ly/4sLpav
  9. A string of out-of-season warm days snapped by an assertive gust of wind.
  10. This rush, rustled up /against the stillness of day slips /past the graded ridge, / the apparent precipice /at the end of the street.
  11. Loosened by sudden wind, leaves/ convoluted, the flurry/ an airborne fury like the mood of a crowd/unleashed on rumor.
  12. The kettle for my coffee whistles in the dark well before the first bird song makes light of this day.
  13. Once again the day begins with a rhetorical gesture: hope.
  14. RT @SteveHimmer I don't participate in NaNoWriMo, because November is also BuEsGraMo (Busy Essay Grading Month).
  15. Dreams like these, served up right, after a dinner of store-bought giant tamales.
  16. Chef Ramsey was yelling in my dreamed young-again children for their cooking skills then at me for feeling raw over their diced-up feelings.
  17. I sort through boxes and come across bundles of letters, exchanges with writers from before the Internet. The handwriting, kudzu on memory.
  18. I keep working on a painting that won't reveal itself. In the end, I'll have to resort to words to make the image clear.
  19. Mt. Tam wears seven veils of fog this morning. Feeble birdsong won't entice it to shed any of them yet.
  20. I prefer my time to be space, rather than line, my friends a constellation, rather than a line.