emily dickinson
#433
(1863)
Ourselves we do inter with sweet derision
The channel of the dust who once achieves
Invalidates the balm of that religion
That doubts as fervently as it believes
it's getting cold and emily comes to the attic window at the end of fall, in my mind anyway. i thought such a group would be more willing to discuss poetry. but maybe it's too removed from you and what you like to do. so i propose (if you're not too shy) that we share some of our own works. yes, if you write poems, would you be so brave?
pontessa
sky and earth will wear out; my words won't wear out ~ jesus