Sunday, March 28, 2010

February 9th, 1959 - March 29th, 1975

Only 16 years between the Crib + the Grave

Saturday, March 06, 2010



Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson