It’s all I have to bring today –
This, and my heart beside –
This, and my heart, and all the fields –
And all the meadows wide –
Be sure you count – should I forget
Some one the sum could tell –
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell.
~ Emily Dickinson
In May my heart was breaking-Oh, wide the wound, and deep!And bitter it beat at waking,And sore it split in sleep.And when it came November,I sought my heart, and sighed,"Poor thing, do you remember?""What heart was that?" it cried.
…with the scattered remnants of a dream about David Bowie slipping away, and my knee hurting.
I don’t think the two were related, though.
I know this is already making the rounds, but it’s so amazing it’s worth saying again.
Oooh, spoilery & delicious!