God permits industrious angels
Afternoons to play.
I met one,—forgot my school-mates,
All, for him, straightway.
God calls home the angels promptly
At the setting sun;
I missed mine. How dreary marbles,
After playing Crown!
--Emily Dickinson
Waterfall's blog about writing • poetry • hiking • fitness • books • motherhood • George the Piano • etc.
Tuesday, April 5, 2005
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