Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile – the winds –
To a heart in port –
Done with the compass –
Done with the chart!
Rowing in Eden –
Ah, the sea!
Might I moor – Tonight –
In thee!
I like Emily Dickinson's work, not in huge swathes but in snatches, caught in a glimpse here and there. The ambiguity and the passion from someone who led such a sheltered life. This poem is called Wild Nights - Wild Nights and I guess we could all do with some of them. I am not dismissing that opportunity out of hand - not yet, but last night I mulled that thought over as I sat in front of the fire, thinking maybe tomorrow... ah, these days...
