If I were Anne Sexton, I'd spend my days reading and re-reading some of my most fabulous poems (and burying a few in the yard...) and today it makes me sad that Anne doesn't get to look over her own work and do a couple of cartwheels in this almost-spring grass of Ohio (for she'd be hanging out with me, of course we are the circle of the crazy ladies) just because she is she.
we are the circle of the crazy ladies
who sit in the lounge of the mental house
and smile at the smiling woman
who passes us each a bell,
(Anne Sexton (1928-1974), U.S. poet. Ringing the Bells (l. 9-12). . . The Complete Poems [Anne Sexton]. (1981) Houghton Mifflin.)