Both posts got through, Jill, but only just, and simultaneously. I had a
similar moment of confusion today on the British Poets, and the same
happened, mind you, it's been quite fun on the lists today, as Al's poem
sparked discussion left, right and I suppose centre, occasionally confusing,
as the matter of which post was on which list became blurred, there being a
certain overlap of persons between here and the BritPo.
I've just looked out the window again and it's now a Hammer Film pea-souper
here. I am brushing up my deerstalker for the morning. Love that Emily
Dickinson poem, it's one of my faves of hers. Belated Happy Birthday to her.
From Bleak House (where the candles are a-guttering)
Best
Dave
David Bircumshaw
Leicester, England
Home Page
A Chide's Alphabet
Painting Without Numbers
www.paintstuff.20m.com/index.htm
http://homepage.ntlworld.com/david.bircumshaw/index.htm
----- Original Message -----
From: "Jill Jones" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Tuesday, December 11, 2001 12:57 AM
Subject: Re: Poem
> > Here in these Northern Latitudes the weather is just as odd, spring-like
> > much of the time, with blackbirds still seen singing and dying flies
> > a-buzzing, while other days, like today, it turns into a cinema cliché
of
> > Victorian England, the fog is a-swirling and I swear I earlier saw both
> > Nostradamus proclaiming It Is A Sign and Holmes and Watson climbing into
a
> > cab.
> >
> > ooh arr, these be profound things (wink)
>
> Hi Dave,
>
> I sent a response to this but I think it dipsappeared into
where-or-whatever.
> Anyway, your description also has a tounch of the bleak house about it.
And
> speaking of flies and dying - in whatever order - yesterday (10th Dec) was
> Emily Dickinson's birthday.
>
>
> I heard a Fly buzz--when I died--
> The Stillness in the Room
> Was like the Stillness in the Air--
> Between the Heaves of Storm--
>
> The Eyes around--had wrung them dry--
> And Breaths were gathering firm
> For that last Onset--when the King
> Be witnessed--in the Room--
>
> I willed my Keepsakes--Signed away
> What portions of me be
> Assignable--and then it was
> There interposed a Fly--
>
> With Blue--uncertain stumbling Buzz--
> Between the light--and me--
> And then the Windows failed--and then
> I could not see to see--
>
>
> Apologies if my original reply turns up and clogs your emails.
>
> From Silly of Sydney,
> Jill
>
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