sounding

I wanted to spend today's post ruminating about the gorgeous poetry reading I attended last night, tell you of how Mary Oliver's voice is the most soothing, of how I want to her to read me poems as I fall asleep every night, of how the world can flicker, then vanish when you are somewhere you know you always want to be.

Instead, I will tell you this: Today the University of Minnesota accepted me into their MFA program in poetry for autumn 2008. And I'll remember that I was eating a peanut butter granola bar, that I wanted to squeal, make the sound of a balloon wheezing, but I couldn't for all the dry fiber in my mouth.

Of all the days to not be working with Emily any more... I wanted to run to someone, shout out the news: I got an email from Julie Schumacher! But she's not there, she's dozens of miles to the north, and though I wanted a best friend there to squee with, I am glad the news she was there to listen to was that old news I received a little over a year ago. Happiness, anger, sorrow. It's all been flung about in abundance lately.

Today we were released early--thick, clumpy snow, slushy and cold at our feet. I didn't even bring a jacket; this morning it was drizzling. Now, little balls of snow fall, the last day of March, and we wonder at the tufts of grass that had just been filling in the mud. It keeps coming.

It all keeps coming.