Ceylon tea with milk and honey
Sipped on a terracotta terrace
With sun-glazed bronze in all its glory:
Shades of me that tell a story.
My eyes are known as Luck and Envy,
Reflections of the rolling hills—
Effervescent emerald flecks
That do not match the architects’.
My genesis is in the Kumbura,
Goyam Kavi, the crop is golden!
Like the temple at Dambulla,
Like the color of my skin.
About the Creator
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Goodbye, Mr. Duvall
It is turning out to be an interesting year. I was in the middle of teaching a class when a pop-up appeared on the screen announcing the death of Mr. Robert Seldon Duvall (yes, that was his full name). I was in the middle of a discussion on the obsession we have with winning when it comes to sports (the Winter Olympics was a theme), and I felt as though things were coming full circle. We had already lost Gene Hackman last year, and along with that titan, it feels though one particular golden age has closed off to be replaced by...?
By Kendall Defoe a day ago in Geeks
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