Taking advantage of a cold, dry, sunny morning to get in some yard cleanup. The huge Red Oak in the background typically holds onto its leaves until mid-December, so the last cleanup of Autumn is usually the following January - or later, if I'm really feeling apathetic about it. But that many leaves really are a lot easier to move if they haven't been saturated fully by a Winter's worth of precipitation. And the image really doesn't transmit just how big that pile of leaves is.
She was fantastic. Like this poetry can reach the younger generation, too.
I had thirty-five years of hard work to transfer part of my love for poetry to my pupils in English and French.
Yet I reached many hearts starting with Limericks and gravestone humour (finishing off with a Shakespeare Sonnet).
My favourite (short) poem by Friederike Mayröcker:
Im Unterricht behandelt man Gedichte.
Was fehlt ihnen?
In class poems are treated.
What’s wrong with them?