Dare you see a Soul
By Emily Dickinson
Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?
Then crouch within the door —
Red — is the Fire's common tint —
But when the vivid Ore
Has vanquished Flame's conditions,
It quivers from the Forge
Without a color, but the light
Of unanointed Blaze.
Least Village has its Blacksmith
Whose Anvil's even ring
Stands symbol for the finer Forge
That soundless tugs — within —
Refining these impatient Ores
With Hammer, and with Blaze
Until the Designated Light
Repudiate the Forge —
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I'm sure I accomplished something productive on Wednesday, but the main things I remember are watching the awful explosion and fire in Gaithersburg, talking to one of my high school friends at lunch (the doctor was working and the one I saw last week was tied up with something), and going to see Wakanda Forever with Paul as soon as his afternoon meetings were over.
I love Black Panther, but I actually may have loved this one more. No spoilers, but I think everyone knows they didn't recast Chadwick Boseman's King T'Challa and I think that was absolutely the right decision. A lot of the film is about grief, both personal and cultural, though it also touches on everything from the damage of colonialism to balancing family with national responsibility.
It was 8:30 by the time we got home, so we ate dinner while watching LEGO Masters which for once cut young white boys and kept women, then we caught up on The Masked Singer that aired while we were away (I actually guessed what the spaceship meant, and who knew the grill master could sing). Some photos from Saugus Iron Works, where Europeans first built industrial iron forges in Massachusetts:
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