Kristi Wachter.com

I found this in my 180 More anthology. I love the careful rhyming that is quieted by the lengths of the sentences, how, reading it aloud, I want to pause mid-line, making the rhymes fall irregularly internally.

That structure, that soft nudge toward reading it conversationally, in a low voice, finding my way to the invisible punctuation, made me want to read it three times, four, five, and I in my initial rush read it as if it were a poem about travelling, about the dust on your own feet as you rush through and across the world, but no, it's an ode, to dust, to road dust,

This week I discovered Gabriele Münter; I was looking up famous German women, and her name appeared on one of the lists I found.

The National Museum of Women in the Arts has her Breakfast of the Birds, which is a lovely work that I think I'm going to copy or at least follow for Draw a Bird Day.

I picked this up at the library book sale a few years ago when I was paying extra attention to the travel section.

A few weeks ago, I watched City of Gold, a great documentary about Jonathan Gold, a groundbreaking food critic who wrote about food and music in Los Angeles.

I was fascinated by the footage of the big pizza-like things with the long shreds of what looked like cheese.

I just rediscovered Letterboxd via a post on MetaFilter, and found a delightful take on Pixar movies over the years as a review of Soul.

I love turtles, and I love butterflies.

This 2019 WikiMedia Picture of the Year gives me both.

I subscribe to two daily poetry email lists: the Poem of the Day from the Poetry Foundation and Poem-a-Day from Poets.org.

A recent Poem of the Day was Tell the Bees by Sarah Lindsay, which intrigued me enough to go look at some of her other works.