moody weather and crustaceans

yesterday was spring time bona-fide with all kinds of hot and outside shenanigans, so much to make a sick person rise from her bed and court a sunburn with ardor, and today it snows so hard that I think a snowflake tore through my jacket into my sweater and made a home for itself in my belly button! I'm surprised it didn't run me through entirely!

and what all this means is hot baths and la boheme and candlelight. and probably theraflu, since I'm on a theraflu diet these days, and probably cough drops, the lemony kind, and fluffy robes, and rest.

and speaking of fluffy, check out this wonderful furry lobster!

nostalgia

I found this poem, which I'd not read in maybe nine years, and then when I read it I remembered how much I loved it then, how I read it at night over and over and felt overwhelmed by it but also somehow calmed and also sad. even now, after years and years of reading all kinds of things, I still find it lovely and overwhelming and serene and sad. I think it may have to do with the parenthesis, the sideways, quiet tone of parenthesis, and the soft/hard of the knitted locks, the images of threshhold, the implication of working hands in a poem about losing the body. anyway, here it is, for to share:

The Last Invocation

At the last, tenderly,
From the walls of the powerful fortress'd house,
From the clasp of the knitted locks, from the keep of the well-closed doors,
Let me be wafted.

Let me glide noiselessly forth;
With the key of softness unlock the locks -- with a whisper,
Set ope the doors O soul.

Tenderly -- be not impatient,
(Strong is your hold O mortal flesh,
Strong is your hold O love.)

- W. Whitman