By H.D.
Reed,
slashed and torn
but doubly rich—
such great heads as yours
drift upon temple-steps,
but you are shattered
in the wind.
Myrtle-bark
is flecked from you,
scales are dashed
from your stem,
sand cuts your petal,
furrows it with hard edge,
like flint
on a bright stone.
Yet though the whole wind
slash at your bark,
you are lifted up,
aye—though it hiss
to cover you with froth.
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Sunday was much colder and greyer than Saturday, not least because we had to take Adam back to school for the rest of the spring semester. We had a mostly quiet morning involving various chores and keeping cats warm, then we took son food shopping, grabbed lunch, and took him to his dorm to finish his spring break homework.
We picked up Maddy from work and were going to have a quiet dinner, but someone I know locally was Freecycling a queen mattress and box spring, so Maddy and I went to pick that up for her room, which required four people to tie it on top of the minivan and three to get it down and take it upstairs, but now her room has a big bed!
Paul and I watched To Walk Invisible, a film about Emily, Charlotte, and Anne Bronte with an annoyingly apt title for a movie that obsesses about their brother and his disappointed hopes vis a vis their father rather than on their independent interests. Here are some more photos of the cherry blossoms from yesterday:
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