Last Weekend

{Virginia Bluebell by Daddy}

Give me a quiet garret alone

Where I may sit for a few casual callers

And tell them casually, offhandedly

'This is where I dirty paper.'

Thus each poet prays and dreams

The eternal hobe asks for a quiet room

with a little paper he can dirty

with birds who sit where he tells 'em.

Carl Sandburg, Breathing Tokens, 1945

Last weekend, we went for a picnic at Connemara, the poet Carl Sandburg's home, now park. I hadn't been since Laura and I were little girls. I'd forgotten how much I like a little Sandburg in small doses.