Whittier, and Why I'm Not

Of all sad words of tongue or pen
The saddest are these: "It might have been!"
--John Greenleaf Whittier

Thus concludes every email sent by one of the university professors for which I work. Today, these poetic words summon memories of witty, incisive commentary I planned to post but have since been lost to the avalanche of research that descended upon me in violent fashion.

Forever lost to literary discourse are several humorous school foibles, a marvellous Thanksgiving Eve piece (half written) concerning some culinary misfortunes involving several lumps of substandard pie crust, and at least one semi-poignant epiphany of the life-appreciation vein.

I had pictures, too--beautiful photos of fall and food, fun and feasting.

But alas, the sad word emitting from my metaphoric pen is simply that there is but an empty void in cyberspace where words should have been.