RoseannWeiss: Look up. The moon is hanging out in the eastern sky - waxing almost full - with a misty head of wild white hair.

RoseannWeiss: ". . . . she took herself up//Into a tree unclear what to do next save only/Sing the song she wanted sung back to her." (Sophie Cabot Black)

RoseannWeiss: Night spits & sweats rain. Not fully winter-too early for spring-but feels fecund. Something is changing. Oh Walt, I sing the body electric!

RoseannWeiss: Etta James: When she lifted her voice, she lifted us.

RoseannWeiss: What winter's tale will we tell today as white light breaks through the gloom?

RoseannWeiss: Full moon. Etched white disk in a black sky. Hanging like a beam guiding me home.

RoseannWeiss: Today: a rhapsody of gray and rain. Tonight: warm lamplight & preparations. We look forward. Despite. Because.

RoseannWeiss: "What signal from the stars? What senses took it in?/. . . . . . . ,/Rebellion or surrender?"-from The Consent by Howard Nemerov

RoseannWeiss: December rain beboppin' against the roof on a Saturday night.

RoseannWeiss: Sitting @ Duff's with the great chef Jimmy Voss. Come join us!