After great pain, a formal feeling comes –
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –
The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’
And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?
The Feet, mechanical, go round –
A Wooden way
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone –
This is the Hour of Lead-
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –
First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –
-Emily Dickinson, 1862
For the Dead
I dreamed I called you on the telephone
to say: Be kinder to yourself
but you were sick and would not answer
The waste of my love goes on this way
trying to save you from yourself
I have always wondered about the leftover
energy, water rushing down a hill
long after the rains have stopped
or the fire you want to go to bed from
but cannot leave, burning-down but not burnt-down
the red coals more extreme, more curious
in their flashing and dying
than you wish they were
sitting there long after midnight
-Adrienne Rich, 1972
-Barbara Krueger, 1987
Via Heidi: Libraries Remember September 11, 2001. Linda Hall Library is participating:
The Linda Hall Library will be open the 24 hours of September 11, 2003, in commemoration of the events of September 11, 2001, and in recognition of the strength and spirit of this nation and its libraries for their support of freedom of expression and access to information.
The library will close at 5:00 p.m. on September 10, and will re-open at midnight and remain open through midnight, September 11.
The other day I was going through some old digital photos and came across this picture of a few pigeons on a windowsill across the alley from our apartment.
Now why did I take this picture? Who would be interested in the birds across the alley?