Imps in Eager Caucus
I can wade Grief
Whole Pools of it
I'm used to that
But the least push of Joy
Breaks up my feet
And I tip -- drunken
Emily Dickinson
Something about her words hits me like a shot of whiskey. The toss. The swallow. The bite. The warmth. Who can not love this?
"A wounded deer leaps the highest."
"God gave a Loaf to every Bird, but just a Crumb to Me."
"Imps in eager Caucus raffle for my soul."
I suppose I am most drawn to what she didn't say. And, I have always wondered if she reconciled her restless struggle in a way that gave her peace.
3 comments:
Am enjoying your posts- your writing style and honesty. Please keep it up!
Thanks, man.
Oddly enough, she who doesn't "evenwannablog," keeps telling me to "Stoooooooooop."
Darn her.
I wasn't asking you to stoooooop, cause that sounds kind of naughty. What I said was stopppppppp! Only puz you're putting us all to shame. I want to have time to write real posts, but I have too many darn kids. Or at least that is the excuse I'll use for today. If blogs had been around 11 years ago, I might have taken this all into consideration in my family planning.
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