Bridge May be Icy

Some works are meant to be read aloud: plays, speeches, poetry, and in the case of my father, every street sign en route to a vacation destination. The sound of a voice reading aloud is one of my most adored enjoyments. The rhythms of the syllables dictated by punctuation and inhalations rival a solo concert. At our December meeting, we created our own music by reading in the round. I think today is a day for singing or at the minimum enjoying a street sign or two aloud.