Poem for Tuesday

Choose Something Like a Star
By Robert Frost

O Star (the fairest one in sight),
We grant your loftiness the right
To some obscurity of cloud --
It will not do to say of night,
Since dark is what brings out your light.
Some mystery becomes the proud.
But to be wholly taciturn
In your reserve is not allowed.
Say something to us we can learn
By heart and when alone repeat.
Say something! And it says "I burn."
But say with what degree of heat.
Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.
Use language we can comprehend.
Tell us what elements you blend.
It gives us strangely little aid,
But does tell something in the end.
And steadfast as Keats' Eremite,
Not even stooping from its sphere,
It asks little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise of blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid.

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I meant to post Robert Frost yesterday, in honor of JFK (Frost being his favorite poet), but as usual the right part of the brain was not talking to the left part. Or however that works. I was waylaid much of this afternoon by a migraine that I managed to avert with drugs and a long rest, and am much better now, but hopelessly behind. Sending out vibes to whom I was supposed to see but she was not feeling well either -- hope you are better, sweetie!

And soon I hope I shall be quite distracted with Prisoner of Azkaban! I would say to prepare for more Lupin fic, but it shall not be today, and my sister is coming tomorrow with her family which means five children under the age of 12 running around together, so I expect to be boring and domestic for the holidays. Hope everyone else celebrating has exciting or at least comfortable plans!


From the Smithsonian Insect Zoo. Because sometimes a spider is just a spider but sometimes a spider is an entertaining metaphor.