By Angelina Weld Grimké
Twilight--and you
Quiet--the stars;
Snare of the shine of your teeth,
Your provocative laughter,
The gloom of your hair;
Lure of you, eye and lip;
Yearning, yearning,
Languor, surrender;
Your mouth,
And madness, madness,
Tremulous, breathless, flaming,
The space of a sigh;
Then awakening--remembrance,
Pain, regret--your sobbing;
And again, quiet--the stars,
Twilight--and you.
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The weather was gorgeous for the last day of Adam's spring break, breezy in the low 60s, so after letting him sleep late and get some homework done, we went to the National Colonial Farm at The Accokeek Foundation in Piscataway Park, which was created so that Mount Vernon across the Potomac River would have an appropriately scenic view. Apart from a bunch of people fishing on the dock, the park was not at all crowded, and we arrived at the barn just when it was time for the babies to be fed, so Adam and I got to give bottles to the two recently adopted lambs and the calf whose mother wasn't producing enough milk.
Apart from watching the Easter Bunny knock out the racing presidents at the Nationals game on TV, we did not do anything Easter-ish, though we drove home through DC to miss the Beltway traffic and to pick up a freecycling treat and saw several decorated lawns. After dinner we watched Once Upon a Time -- needs more Cora flashbacks -- and Cosmos -- which is generally pretty darned good as it is -- before catching up on the first episode of The Real History of Science Fiction on BBC America, which is terrific -- lots of writers, lots of actors, lots of delightful clips, Rutger Hauer looking amazing at 70 without Botox!
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