During a rather warm hour this afternoon, I had some music on fairly loud. I think it was The Strokes. I was pretty happy and I started dancing a bit in the hallway. It was more like a jumping up and down sort of thing.

I don’t dance. Really. Always hated it, always will. The only times I dance are either when I’m absolutely alone and super excited/happy (rare) or if I’m deeply, famously drunk. I just really, really dislike dancing, particularly in public. And sure, I know I probably need to loosen up. But the act of dancing gives me no real pleasure.

BUT – today I sorta did dance. Or hopped around, at the very least. It’s a rare thing, and I thought it worth mentioning.

While I was in the hallway (I tend to do a lot of pacing around when I work at home), I picked up an anthology of poetry and shuffled through it a bit. I came across a really wonderful little poem by Charles Simic, which I’m now going to share with you in its entirety.

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