It's Wednesday once again. And as I watch Scott Kazmir look increasingly uncomfortable on the mound in Game 1 of the World Series, I wonder if I can come up with a suitable drinking game playing on the universal distaste for Tim McCarver.

It's lit day again. I haven't had time to work out the formatting issues and I haven't written anything new of late, so I'll dip into the archives again, and see what I find.

An untitled bit this evening...


Pinks and purples
Hang
Suspended
In the air around,
Against the canvas of the night.
From which comes a laugh
(A giggle? A chuckle?)
Certainly not a chuckle.
Neither.
A throw your head back
Let your hair fall
Eyes closed,
Throat open,
Sky swirling,
Skirt twirling,
Angels singing,
Trumpets ringing,
Music-to-my-ears laugh.
Somebody is happy.
Someone is smiling.
A lady is dancing.
And she is loved.