Is it just me, or mere coincidence that I have scheduled my last three vacations to coincide with the New York Double Feature?
Here is a poem from the New Yorker that caught my attention today. (this is a big deal, because I NEVER read the NYer poems...)
A WREATH by Ben Sonnenberg
The leaves hid your face.
I cut them, to get near you.
When I'd cut the last one, you disappeared.
Then I made a wreath.
Who to give it to? No one.
So I put it on.