Sunday 49:21 (1 Google)

Slowest Sunday in months. I was a little distracted at times, but also times just staring at a clue for a full minute, totally flummoxed. Perhaps it's biorhythms, since yesterday was also slow-going. Google was inevitable. There are dead poets I know, and dead poets I know of. John Donne is the latter. In theory I read some of his poems in college, but damned if I can remember.