They come in threes, as Mozart knew

The winter was impossible. Basement flooded, the favorite room, my writing studio. The car was vandalized. Then a blackout while driving. Three losses, not impossible, but challenging.

Now spring and three good things. A daughter’s marriage. A grant from Warren Wilson, a major assist toward completing the MFA in poetry. An offer to teach at one more venue.

A favorite set of threes: The Magic Flute, an opera rife with trinities.  The little boys who calm the nerves of Papageno: Stop talking. Be steadfast. Oh, yeah, and play those chimes!


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