Honestly Beagles sometimes I wonder is there no poetry in your soul? Is there nothing more to you than your truck and your furnace? Do you never raise your eyes to contemplate beauty, like a sunrise or a sunset, or more immediately those crackerjack photos I posted a few days ago, Probably just a couple trains to you, reminding you only of how a train once went through Cheboygan and how that effected the toilet paper factory.
Speaking of poetry, the previous paragraph was just a segue to get to the subject of poetry, because I know the dawgs love poetry and I wanted to insert a posting of mine from facebook and it contains some poetry.
Crept away from CNN and into bed last night before ten weeping and trembling. Woke up and listened to NPR and read the morning papers and just now tuned in to CNN just as Biden took the lead in Michigan, and now all those urban mail in votes are coming in and there is hope yet, brothers and sisters. As the poet Gerard Manly Hopkins wrote:
Not a big Holy Ghost man myself, but you get the drift.
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