A poem of a sentence from Emerson’s journal, written 19 June, 1838: A young lady came here whose face was a blur & gave the eye no repose. The story behind it? Gone. Or is it still to be written?
Mass shooting. I wonder how old I was when I first heard or read that term. No matter — now it is commonly used in plural form.
It was certainly not used in my childhood. Neither was low-fat milk — at least not on the farm.
Death sentence. Every sentence we write, we should be willing to die for.
June 13, 2021. Afternoon. Steady rain.
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Categories: New Poems & Pieces
Tags: Childhood, Diaries, Emerson, Journals, Low-Fat Milk, Mass Shootings, Memory, Our Old Farm, Poems, Poetry, Rain, Reading, Sentences
William Michaelian 