Hunger - Emily Dickinson
My noon had come, to dine;
I, trembling, drew the table near,
And touched the curious wine.
'T was this on tables I had seen,
When turning, hungry, lone,
I looked in windows, for the wealth
I could not hope to own.
I did not know the ample bread,
'T was so unlike the crumb
The birds and I had often shared
In Nature's dining-room.
The plenty hurt me, 't was so new,
Myself felt ill and odd,
As berry of a mountain bush
Transplanted to the road.
Nor was I hungry; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The entering takes away.
This month until Thursday 21 when the Arts Umbrella Dance
Company will have its Season Finale (21, 22 and 23) at the Playhouse you might
want to linger by the rear window of the Arts Umbrella building on Granville
Island. The window is by the pay parking. Particularly on Wednesdays around 5
or Sundays beginning at 12:30 you will see through the window rehearsals of the
Senior Dance Company, the Apprentice Dance Company and others going through the
moves (some from beginning to end) of the dances by many of the world’s best
choreographers. You might not be able to listen in to the Zen-like instructions
by Artistic Director Arty Gordon and her assistant Lynn Sheppard. Or you might.
I believe that this is a very well kept secret. I feel
smug that I have connections and I don’t have to look through the window. I am
inside.
Said Death to Passion
We Wear the Mask That Grins And Lies
It was not death for I stood alone
The Music in the Violin Does Not Emerge Alone
I tend my flowers for thee
Lavinia Norcross Dickinson
Pray gather me anemone!
Ample make her bed
His caravan of red
Me-come! My dazzled face
Develops pearl and weed
But peers beyond her mesh
Surgeons must be very careful
Water is taught by thirst
I could not prove that years had feet
April played her fiddle
A violin in Baize replaced
I think the longest hour
The spirit lasts
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/03/i-left-them-in-ground-emily-dickinson.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/01/i-felt-my-life-with-both-my-hands.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/currer-bell-emily-dickinson-charlotte.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/i-could-not-see-to-see.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/blonde-assasin-passes-on.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2012/12/you-almost-bathed-your-tongue.html