"on the bit about the kid"

the fun has just begun ... ala Martha ... ala Peggy ... ala the big bad Woolf!

the stage is set

the stage is set

oh, for a flitter of words

butterfly breath aside

Waning Gibbous

Emily Dickinson Poem 419

We grow accustomed to the Dark -
When Light is put away -
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Goodbye -

A Moment - We uncertain step
For newness of the night -
Then - fit our Vision to the Dark -
And meet the Road - erect -

And so of larger - Darknesses -
Those evenings of the Brain -
When not a Moon disclose a sign -
Or Star - come out - within -

The Bravest - grope a little -
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead -
But as they learn to see -

Either the Darkness alters -
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight -
And Life steps almost straight.