Three Beautiful Things 09/01/20: Billy Collins x 2, Walk, Tree House Concert BONUS A Limerick by Stu

1. All that hosting on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday caught up to me today. My entire day seemed to be built around two coma naps. I listened to last Friday's Billy Collins Poetry Broadcast (again) and I listened to today's. On Friday, Billy Collins commemorated the anniversary of Seamus Heaney's death (August 30, 2013) by reading two of his poems, "Postscript" and "Digging" and reflected on what he admires about Heaney's work. He also read his elegy to Seamus Heaney entitled, "Speedwalking on August 31, 2013" and an elegy he wrote for Arthur Plotnik.  Monday's broadcast featured Billy Collins reading two poems from his soon to be released collection, Whale Day and three from The Trouble with Poetry. Among his own poems, Billy Collin tucked in his reading of Paul Violi's poem, "At the Cottage of Messer Violi". Listening to all these poems relaxed and prompted one of my periods of deep sleep today.

2. I took a walk up to the high school late this afternoon after the day cooled off a bit. I logged in just over a mile of walking and it invigorated me to get out and moving again after spending too many days not doing so.

3. Bill Davie performed a powerhouse concert tonight from the Tree House. He seemed to be letting the spirit move him from song to song and he performed some of my favorites. As always seems to happen, these favorite songs transport me in time back to Bill's several performances in Eugene -- at Sam Bond's Garage, during the Eugene Celebration in Smith Family Bookstore (I think), in my house on 940 Madison, and at a place that I think was called Buffalo Gals -- at least it was called Buffalo something -- I welcome anyone's correction.

Bill has been writing a series of poems during the pandemic, aptly titled, The Pandemic Suite, and he read about six of them tonight. The poems added mightily to the power of the powerhouse concert.


Here's a limerick by Stu:



An allowance was paid once a week.
For work that’s performed, no back speak.
But, when your efforts reflected,
What was thought you neglected.
Then my friends, you were just up the creek!