It snowed!
And when it snows this much, we get a hankerin' for building a snowman.Everybody meet Bob Frost. He fancies himself a bit of a poet. So, of course, his shoes have holes in their soles when he has shoes at all. Lately, he's been drinking espresso at the local coffee shop while talking about the relevance of iambic pentameter with Li Po and Charles Bukowski.
We bought him a coffee, and being a bit cold, he borrowed the Guinness scarf I made Jonathan last year. You know poets, they're always broke.
2 comments:
hee hee! was he still there to greet you when you got home, last night? i love him! (<--don't tell eric!)
Me and Bobby Boy have been hanging together at the old coffee shop, eating ham and cheese sandwiches and sipping hot coffee. In between bites we read each other's poetry and ramble on about two roads in a forest disected by a comet. Ah, to return to our youth and the loveliness of a winter morn.
winter dawn --
sparrows pick
at the bird seed
Li Po
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