Wet Verse

I love a rainy day and today's for even more reasons.

First of all, it's a good morning when I wake up to read that Charles Wright was named poet laureate.

You see, I'd heard Wright read at the Library of Virginia last Fall and fallen in love with his meditative lyricism, sly sense of humor and references to growing up in Tennessee.

I recall swooning over his poem "Lullaby" and the lovely line, "I've said what I have to say as melodiously as I could," an apt descriptor of everything he writes.

Isn't it just like Richmond to have already hosted Wright so that for the first time in my poetry-loving life I can say I'd heard the poet laureate read before he was chosen?

The day just kept getting better with lunch plans at Lucy's with a favorite girlfriend. Pulling up in front of the restaurant seemed to be a sign to the weather gods, though, and the heavens opened up so we just sat in the car and began our non-stop conversation until it let up sufficiently.

Wading through curbside puddles after a while to find refuge in the cozy restaurant, we found a good-sized crowd chowing down.

Taking seats at the end of the bar, right in front of a pedestal boasting six Roses, I spotted a farmer I know at the other end and waved hello. Spencer Davis Group's "Gimme Some Lovin'" was playing, a clue that the classic soul soundtrack was going to be right up my alley.

Not to make sexist generalizations, but we did the girly thing, ordering salads and fries, mine the shrimp po' boy salad of hand-breaded shrimp over greens, the reddest of cherry tomatoes, red onions and avocados with tangy ten thousand island dressing and hers the chicken white bean salad she always chooses (not that there's anything wrong with that).

There was so much to talk about - restaurant news, side projects for both of us, and always me trying to talk her into joining me at some fun upcoming events.

Get this, we even discussed technology. Okay, so she talked and I listened.

After being confronted with all those lovely pink wines staring us in the face while we ate, we were helpless not to order glasses of Le Petit Balthazar Rose, a delicate pink diamond color and tasting of strawberries, thus qualifying it for our dessert course.

When she drove me home, she parked in front of my house so we could sit in the car and talk even longer. She left with plans to ask her husband if she could go out with me next week to replace their usual date night since their babysitter is away.

Poetry news, a chatty lunch and a possible girl date. Could this day get any better?