Thursday’s early morning storm provides the inspiration for this week’s edition of Poetry Friday.

Spring Snow  

A spring snow coincides with plum blossoms.
In a month, you will forget, then remember
when nine ravens perched in the elm sway in wind.

I will remember when I brake to a stop,
and a hubcap rolls through the intersection.
An angry man grinds pepper onto his salad;

it is how you nail a tin amulet ear
into the lintel. If, in deep emotion, we are
possessed by the idea of possession,

we can never lose to recover what is ours.
Sounds of an abacus are amplified and condensed
to resemble sounds of hail on a tin roof,

but mind opens to the smell of lightning.
Bodies were vaporized to shadows by intense heat;
in memory people outline bodies on walls.

  — Arthur Sze (b. 1950)

From The Redshifting Web: Poems 1970-1998, published by Copper Canyon Press, 1998. Copyright © 1998.

… some three hours after I was originally supposed to get here.

My hotel cancelled my reservation … thankfully, they had other rooms, and I think I may have gotten an upgrade, since I had to use my keycard just to get up to my floor.

And to top it all off, I’m coming down with a cold, and my ears still haven’t popped from the pressure change.

And now, to sleep … I hope.

Being the Chief un-Official at the World’s Collide Cyclocross this past weekend had its benefits … it also came with a price.

The big spot on the back of my head isn’t so bad to deal with … it’s a little sensitive, and looks funny, but all and all, it’s not a big thing. But my left ear is a disgusting, bloody mess.

Next time you see me out at an event in the sun, ask me if I remembered to put sunscreen on my face, my neck, and most importantly, my ears. If I say no, I hearby give you permission to flick the back of my head … or at least to berate me severely until I remedy the situation.

Because this just sucks.

You know what the worst thing about having a sunburn is?

No, it’s not the redness, not the sensitivity to the sun or heat … it’s when your ears get all crusty. It’s icky and gross, and hurts worse than anything else.

<grumble>

A couple weeks ago, the Mistress posted this screed.

Today, the cars came close to evening up the score … haven’t got all the details yet, but it appears that Julie got smacked this morning and broke her hand.

Hope she kicked the shit out of the car while waiting to go to the hospital.

Update 20:53 GMT (1:53 PM MDT) — Nothing broken. See Julie’s blog for more info.