The first Friday of the new year. Rainy and cold. Perfect opportunity to sit and quietly ponder all things quiet. Which usually lands me in a book. Managed a chapter in the James Lee Burke novel I've been working on before getting bored.
Moved to the rain soaked back yard with a glass of port and the new Billy Collins collection of poems, Ballistics. Collins takes everyday events, a walk to the mailbox, everyday items, salt & pepper shakers, and turns them into fascinating revelations about life.
If you are already a fan of poetry you are probably familiar with Billy. If you aren't, this is a great place to start.
