Still catching up at my desk, adding haiku from this weekend.

The town has, after a flurried week, emptied itself of writers, editors, agents and librarians.
There’s an eerie quiet, which I suspect I’m meant to fill with work…

4/16/2011

Each oar dips and pulls
Each runner’s footfall answers.
Birds sit still and sing.

I’ve run around this lake hundreds of times before, but today with folks who haven’t, making it new to me, too.

4/17/2011

Sometimes, a whole grape —  
puncturing skin with my teeth.
Sometimes, a grape’s wine.

Large gatherings, work or social, tend to pivot around meals.
The continental breakfast. The coffee.
The mid-morning lift, the lunch outside, and the dinner, a little too rich…
And then, before long, the next morning’s coffee again.