When I was a soccer-obsessed fifteen-year-old, I had no use for poetry. I endured my school hours like a crated dog, waiting to get out on the field. One afternoon in the library, I picked up a random book of English verse and flipped through it. Eventually I landed on a song from Charles Kingsley’s […]
from
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/04/poetry-at-the-goodwill-2/
No comments:
Post a Comment