The Pope has arrived in Washington. The sun has set and Yom Kippur has begun. Another long day at work has ended. I scan through my list of blog posts I want to write. I glance at a writing prompt from a poetry group. I try to remember fragments of dreams and poems, and they escape me. I’m glad I’m not writing something on a deadline. This is not an evening to write. It is an evening to be quiet, to contemplate. I go to my blog to post this and discover that I’ve already put up my blog post for today, so I didn’t even need to write this much.