sounds familiar
There’s nothing new under the sun, as this week’s poem reminds us: here’s ‘Quarantine, 1918‘ by Faith Shearin. Garrison Keillor will read it to you, too, if you like; the poem begins at about 2.34.
Read MoreThere’s nothing new under the sun, as this week’s poem reminds us: here’s ‘Quarantine, 1918‘ by Faith Shearin. Garrison Keillor will read it to you, too, if you like; the poem begins at about 2.34.
Read MoreThat extra time we’re supposed to be having at the moment, during which we relax, read, knit ourselves cunning new kitchens, all that lot… It hasn’t been like that for me. I seem to have spent a startling amount of time doing I know not what. But one of the things I have managed to achieve, which I’ve been meaning to do for a long time, is get hold of some WS Merwin.
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