I'll be blogging about my marathon interview session later. In the interim, I'll leave you with a simple stanza poem I came across during my 5:00am reading this morning.
From the Telephone
Out of the dark cup
Your voice broke like a flower
It trembled, swaying on its taut stem.
The caress in its touch
Made my eyes close farther.
- Florence Martin - late 19th century
Posted by Michele at April 23, 2005 08:16 AM