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Saturday, September 17, 2011

Summer Is Over

“The Summer hath his joys, / And Winter his delights. / Though Love and all his pleasures are but toys, / They shorten tedious nights.”

Thomas Campion 

Seaside Heights, NJ

Friday, September 2, 2011

Tiny World

The mushroom is the elf of plants,
At evening it is not;
At morning in a truffled hut
It stops upon a spot
 
As if it tarried always;
And yet its whole career
Is shorter than a snake's delay,
And fleeter than a tare.
 
'Tis vegetation's juggler,
The germ of alibi;
Doth like a bubble antedate,
And like a bubble hie.
 
I feel as if the grass were pleased
To have it intermit;
The surreptitious scion
Of summer's circumspect.
 
Had nature any outcast face,
Could she a son condemn,
Had nature an Iscariot,
That mushroom,--it is him.
Emily Dickinson
Manchester, NJ