gradschool, poetry

spinwheel

Summer is upon us. Baltimore rains, as if to say “Summer, yes, but on my terms.” Saying goodbye to students and to classmates. Classes are over: finals are almost over. We have all gone back to work, or have made preparations to leave town. We have had and are having more goodbye/hello/hello/goodbye parties. I am staying, and settling in. I have been exchanging a lot of emails with the incoming class of new MFAers, both poets and fiction writers. It’s exciting to think of them being here soon.

And in the midst of all these routine routines, today is a day in which something happened which had never happened to me before. (Isn’t every day?) Yes, but this one, especially.

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