40/1001 of Bradburian Nights

 I'm only 10 away from 50! Why that is worth mentioning, I'm not sure, but it feels like it is.

It's becoming increasingly difficult to read on plan as the school year plods on and my reading must stay on track with it. Sometimes I dream about the days of not teaching a co-op class, but I actually love teaching these kids and having to teach forces me to read better, and more broadly, so that I have something to actually teach! I need to figure out a way to make my teaching reading fall in plan. 

Essay: Christianity and Literature by C.S. Lewis. Ever since taking a class on thr Inklings from House of Humane Letters, Ive wanted to read all of Lewis. I'm listening to his Miracles, and decided to read more of his essays. I loved this one.

Short Story: none

Poem:

I found this poem in Poetry magazine when I was looking up Yeats's hawk poem. They were published in the same issue. This poem isn't beautiful or uplifting. Its image and implications are stark and haunting. Im not sure that I've read any poetry by Laird before, but this one makes me want to seek out more.

Buds

by William Laird

We went (we both were boiling young) one night

  To see six bouts on -- never mind the street;

And passed, beneath a gas-lamp's ghastly light,

  A woman of prey, no longer fair, her feet

Long turned towards death. My comrade knew she came

From Ardmore town, where still they buzzed her shame.

He hailed her by a childish name which nigh

  Had been forgotten, surely never heard

Since days in quiet Ardmore long gone by,

  Irrevocable: "Buds! why, Buds!" -- the word

Of what was gone. She hid her face in pain,

With God knows what hell-ringing through her brain.

What arrows then of utter woe might stir

  Her trampled soul, I have no skill to guess:

The white name fouled against the front of her --

  The name of hope mocking her hopelessness!

However, being boiling young, that night

We phrased no moral -- went and saw the fight.