New Arrivals
Poet T. S. Eliot famously called April “the cruelest month.” And of course he was right, in many respects, forgetting for a moment just how mean May might be. April here just bursts with life, “breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory with desire.” Nobody should die in April; that would be too cruel, “fear in a handful of dust.” Winter has perished, taking snow- and ice-melt down to the rivers, and our world erupts in flowers. Continue reading