Well, I guess I'm running late here, as well.

This post is #200, and I simply cannot do an appropriately commemorative event this evening. You will have to love the palindromic #202, instead.

Tonight, dinner with poets (the aspiring and the accomplished) and talk about Hopkins, and others, and others, and trespass, and sheer gorgeousness, and a sweeping storm of sheep. By consensus, eating by evening light only. And the dark seeping, the room dimming, the night lovely, lovely, a slow and quiet sigh of nearing summer.