I can't believe we're half-way through this month! Here comes the school season.
Given the present election year climes in the Northeast, here's a poem for you (via Poets.org):
Epitaph on a Tyrant
by W. H. Auden
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.
It's a bit busy at the Morris mainstay but look to another note posted before the month is over. Had a great time communing with my fellow and sister artists at the Creative Capital retreat. If any of you are stopping by, Hi!