The blue is faintly hazed, as though in sympathy with my heat-struck mind. I put a book aside then pick it back up then put it aside. Rather better on such a day to surrender to the temptation to doze, and in some half dream find respite in cool images summoned from some other May less stunned by relentless heat.
Sunday Verse
Emily Dickinson: 661
Could I but ride indefinite
As doth the Meadow Bee
And visit only where I liked
And No one visit me
And flirt all Day with Buttercups
And marry whom I may
And dwell a little everywhere
Or better, run away
With no Police to follow
Or chase Him if He do
Till He should jump Peninsulas
To get away from me –
I said "But just to be a Bee"
Upon a Raft of Air
And row in Nowhere all Day long
And anchor "off the Bar"
What Liberty! So Captives deem
Who tight in Dungeons are.
