269. Read. Look. Drink.
READ.// “The poem needs to be an audacious outburst’, a passage from the room into the mirror, from the garden into the season.” Spring feels like a portal that magically appears to whisk you away from winter—at least in Chicago. I find some of my most creative and tense times are in Spring, especially in that period where it remains delicate and a 35 degree days with flurries can suddenly re-appear. Transition periods get me reading, like this passage from The Centaur Tree by Ilare Veronca by Sublunary Editions, or writing, like this little poem about the early bluebells in my yard.