October 31, 2014
High Flight
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds,--and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of--Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air...
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew--
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of G-d.
-John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
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October 31, 2014
The first section is a reprint of an oft-quoted poem about life and death.
When life is good, it sometimes feels like what that poem describes; maybe death always feels that way, although there's no need to rush it and it's sad when it gets hurried upon people.
No code, of course.
I'm at the women's program at St. Francis House. Several women have coughed at me since I got here, and someone just walked past me, coughing loudly and repeatedly.
Copyright, with noted exceptions, L. Kochman, October 31, 2014 @ 10:13 a.m.