Contrary to expectations, we folded up WordHarvest about 3:15am or so. We never quite got the second or third wind we were expecting, though and Craig came around 11:30pm or so, and we did go for a while after that. By 3:00, though, it was pretty clear that we had done what we had come to do — we had read a number of our own pieces, a huge number of covers, had (a very little) druming and dancing, and told stories around a symbolic hearth of Worcester poets.
Among the poets read (present or not)
the silent one
something something Lee…
OK, I can’t even begin to enumerate them all. Basically every chapbook I own was read from at least once. Many poems were read, many voices heard. There was a new, seven-year-old poet there: Erica, performing and writing for the first time. It was beautiful.
and I got home about 4am, and went straight to bed. We slept until around 9am, when the school interrupted our early morning cuddle; two members of the maintenance staff rang the bell twice, and then came to remove the bathroom fan, which has been acting up and playing funky tricks. We were… slightly surprised.
We’re going to the Connecticut Renaissance Faire in Woodstock, Connecticut today. It’s at the Woodstock Fairgrounds, at the intersection of Route 171 and 169. Come on by!