By Emily Dickinson
There is a word
Which bears a sword
Can pierce an armed man.
It hurls its barbed syllables,—
At once is mute again.
But where it fell
The saved will tell
On patriotic day,
Some epauletted brother
Gave his breath away.
Wherever runs the breathless sun,
Wherever roams the day,
There is its noiseless onset,
There is its victory!
Behold the keenest marksman!
The most accomplished shot!
Time's sublimest target
Is a soul "forgot"!
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Adam was up very late on the phone Sunday night and kept me awake, so I am somewhat woozy. I had lots of work and chores to do so I don't have a lot to report from my Monday anyway, apart from having nearly finished a big, super-fun project that unfortunately will not make me rich. My favorite part of Earth Day was outside enjoying the earth -- we have tulips all over our neighborhood now and many other flowers:
We watched Sunday's Once Upon A Time, which needed more Robin Hood but thankfully had very little of Emma or Snow going on about Good and lots of Regina and Gold being Not Good, plus some hope for Belle not being Another Good Woman. Then we watched the first episode of Da Vinci's Demons, which is even crackier than The Borgias but was worth turning on for 1) Alexander Siddig and 2) Hugh Bonneville stark naked --
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