I really loved today’s Writer’s Almanac poem, so I thought I’d share it here. You can also sign up to receive their poems in your inbox or their podcast in your iTunes.
This World is Not My Home
The more you say, the more mistakes you’ll make,
so keep it simple.
No one arrives without leaving soon.
This blue-eyed, green footed world—
hello, Goldie, goodbye.
We won’t meet again. So what?
The rust will remain in the trees,
and pine needles stretch their necks,
Their tiny necks, and sunlight will snore in the limp grass.
“This World is Not My Home, I’m Only Passing Through” by Charles Wright, from Bye-and-Bye: Selected Late Poems.
I always say too much, so for today, this will do.
I like writing, photography, reading, music, design, typography, paper products, days in the seventies and sparkly snow, Spanish wine and cans of PBR. I spent a year in Córdoba, Spain, working as a 
