From inside the twenty-hour day, a voice or two

The days, oh—they have been something.  Yesterday, for example, began at 3 AM and ended at 11 PM, and included work on a bit of promotional poetry, a stint of science writing, a sudden and intense advertising copy session, a design review of a new think paper, and some finalizing touches on a complex technical magazine story for my Singapore client/friends. 

My hummingbird came near and stayed.

Miss M., my young and so talented dancing friend, sent a note I'll never forget.

My son invited me to dance with him.

I talked to a friend.

I think of all I did not do—the people I failed, the blogs I didn't visit, the messages I still owe, the questions I've not answered, the research I didn't do, the books I neither advanced nor read.


I am, I am afraid, perpetually begging forgiveness.