I dwell in Possibility, A fairer house than Prose, More numbers of windows, Superior of doors. Of chambers, as the cedars — Impregnable of eye; And for an everlasting roof The gables of the sky. Of visitors — the fairest— For occupation — this— The spreading wide by narrow hands To gather Paradise. —Emily Dickinson
23.01.2025 01:29 — 👍 6 🔁 0 💬 0 📌 0
So I've been home all day watching the neighborhood kids sled on the hills behind my house. Sigh. Brings back memories of my son Nathaniel's first big snow. He LOVED it. I can still hear him insist through shivering lips: "I'm not cold, I'm NEVER cold!" just to get more time outside in the snow.
23.01.2025 01:25 — 👍 7 🔁 0 💬 0 📌 0