Musings of an expat grad student... oy vey.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005


Badger's husband has lost his battle with cancer.

There are no words that could possibly express my sorrow for her and her son. Poetry will have to suffice:

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--
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought--
A Wooden way
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


Post a Comment

<< Home