Taking Down the Tree - by Jane Kenyon - “Give me some light!” cries Hamlet’s uncle midway through the murder of Gonzago. “Light! Light!” cry scattering courtesans. Here, as in Denmark, it’s dark at four, and even the moon shines with only half a heart. The ornaments go down into the box: the silver spaniel, My Darling on its collar, from Mother’s childhood in Illinois; the balsa jumping jack my brother and I fought over, pulling limb from limb. Mother drew it together again with thread while I watched, feeling depraved at the age of ten. With something more than…
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taking down the tree
December 28th, 2007 — ashtray, firewood, musings, poems, smoke, woods from Heather @ memory & desire
taking down the tree
December 28th, 2007 — , Perfume, ashtray, firewood, musings, poem, poems, smoke, woods from Heather @ memory & desire
Taking Down the Tree - by Jane Kenyon - “Give me some light!” cries Hamlet’s uncle midway through the murder of Gonzago. “Light! Light!” cry scattering courtesans. Here, as in Denmark, it’s dark at four, and even the moon shines with only half a heart….
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