Her mind lives in a quiet room,
A narrow room and tall.
With pretty lamps to quench the gloom,
And mottoes on the wall.
There all the things are waxen neat,
And set in decorous lines.
And there are posies, round and sweet,
And little straightened vines.
Her mind lives tidily apart,
From cold and noise and pain.
And bolts the door against her heart,
Out wailing in the rain.
Dorothy Parker
Brooding time for our local hawks
-
Hawk nesting season has officially begun as Tompkins Square red-tailed
hawks, Amelia and Christo, are brooding eggs. We do not now how many there
are, bu...
4 days ago
1 comment:
O, Dorothy Parker, thou hast said all that needs to be said. Ow, ow, ow. A more bitter image I can' imagine!
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