Wednesday, August 27, 2003

Poem for Wednesday and <lj comm


The White House
By Claude McKay


Your door is shut against my tightened face,
And I am sharp as steel with discontent;
But I possess the courage and the grace
To bear my anger proudly and unbent.
The pavement slabs burn loose beneath my feet,
A chafing savage, down the decent street;
And passion rends my vitals as I pass,
Where boldly shines your shuttered door of glass.
Oh, I must search for wisdom every hour,
Deep in my wrathful bosom sore and raw,
And find in it the superhuman power
To hold me to the letter of your law!
Oh, I must keep my heart inviolate
Against the potent poison of your hate.

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: Tender, for the challenge to write about the mothers. I am sure this violates canon in some significant way but it's an interesting a/u, at least to me.

Kids are home for another hour because the county delayed all school for two hours due to power outages. Fortunately that's not affecting this area. Must go finish filling out the eight, count 'em, eight medical forms that instead of being on carbon paper or held over from previous years pending changes must be filled out in quadruplicate for each child.

Gacked from , the Which Marauder Am I quiz, with reasonable results:

And because I can, a photo.


Blue Dragonfly, Great Falls, Maryland

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