When the calendar brings in the cuckoo

[sovay]

For winter's rains and ruins are over,
And all the season of snows and sins;
The days dividing lover and lover,
The light that loses, the night that wins;
And time remember'd is grief forgotten,
And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,
And in green underwood and cover
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
—Algernon Charles Swinburne, Atalanta in Calydon (1865)

It's the first day of spring. My poem "If Fallen Angels Dream of Flight," written in 2004 for a dream of lesser_celery's, has been accepted by Ideomancer. There is still an impressive amount of snow in the front yard.

Comments

*would .. you like to .. play a game?*

[cucumberseed.livejournal.com]

Cool!

Last night I dreamed of a dozen stacked laboratories where experiments in evil and subjugation were taking place, and sneaking in to one of them and using one of their weapons to destroy the facility and, sadly, the eastern seaboard ( :@ ). At that point I got a ghost's eye view of everything that followed, set to Thom Yorke's Cymbal Rush

[sovay]

At that point I got a ghost's eye view of everything that followed, set to Thom Yorke's Cymbal Rush

That's marvelous.