Swirling, confident, those sax notes stretch and blow
above the drums, full of his blue notes,
fifty years ago, new as now.
One evening, as the monks sang and played the harp, Caedmon slipped away. He knew no songs. Thus embarrassed, he spent the night sleeping with the animals. In his dream, “someone”, Bede says, approached Caedmon, and asked him to sing of the beginning of all things.
Jake Johnson: Undermining Trump-Bolton War Narrative, British General Says No Evidence of ‘Increased Threat’ From Iran
Intelligence and military officials in Europe as well as in the United States said that over the past year, most aggressive moves have originated not in Tehran, but in Washington.
And you, my love.
Why do I feel alone without you
Whom I have never known?
Be careful, said the bottle miner,
Don’t let the dirt out —
It holds her eyes in place.