...just as on all those nights

Now, it's all right now
even to fall asleep
just as on all those nights.
--Suddenly the bus driver
stops with a jolt,
turns off his lights.

The above is from what is said to be a perfect poem, The Moose, by Elizabeth Bishop. I love it. Read the whole thing here. I read it aloud earlier and it was a good experience.

That's a moose up in Pittsburg, NH, that Tim and I saw while camping up there with Amy over the 4th of July weekend.

Also, I am a terrible blogger these days. Too much goes through Twitter and Facebook for me to feel like this is necessary. But I think I'll try to get back on task. Maybe write some poems or something.

BRIAN OUT.