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POEM 1/ March 30 I tie my Hat — I crease my Shawl — Life's little duties do — precisely — As the very least Were infinite — to me — I put new Blossoms in the Glass — And throw the old — away — I push a petal from my Gown That anchored there — I weigh The time 'twill be till six o'clock I have so much to do — And yet — Existence — some way back — Stopped — struck — my ticking — through — We cannot put Ourself away As a completed Man Or Woman — When the Errand's done We came to Flesh — upon — There may be — Miles on Miles of Nought — Of Action — sicker far — To simulate — is stinging work — To cover what we are From Science — and from Surgery — Too Telescopic Eyes To bear on us unshaded — For their — sake — not for Ours — 'Twould start them — We — could tremble — But since we got a Bomb — And held it in our Bosom — Nay — Hold it — it is calm — Therefore — we do life's labor — Though life's Reward — be done — With scrupulous exactness — To hold our Se...
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Writing, and the Wonder of Windows

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Hi all! This is my first post on the class blog (or any blog that I can think of, for that matter…!) so I’m just going to give it my best shot. When I first got home, more than a month ago now, I found it impossible to write. As someone who is usually journaling all the time and who loves to write poetry, this felt uncomfortable and foreign. I think I was afraid to put down in words all of the tumult I was experiencing inside--or I was afraid that writing would reveal different kinds of tumult that I wasn’t even aware of experiencing. Maybe it was a bit of both. Regardless, although things are still very far from “normal,” I’ve finally started to write again, and it’s brought a sense of rhythm and creativity to my days which I wouldn’t trade for the world. As I’m sure many of us have, I’ve been thinking a lot about Emily recently, and how this forced reclusion we are all undergoing makes her poems, thoughts, and lived experiences that much more relevant and real. I’ve felt Emily...
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Moleskin Flower Pressing

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Almost as soon as I heard we were going to be using moleskins as a poetry/art collection in the Dickinson style, I realized I needed to learn how to press flowers. I decided to only use wildflowers that emerged as the spring began to reveal itself, down here in Texas. There are a few things I've taken notice of through this process of collection and preservation: almost every wildflower in my area is purple with the exception of one little yellow flower that I don't know the name of, the best places to look for flowers is unkempt lawns and areas of the neighborhood that seem to be most overlooked; once picked, flowers begin to droop surprisingly fast so they're better collected on the way home. The process of flower pressing is not too complicated (and I encourage everyone to try as I've had a few really beautiful attempts), but it does involve leaving the journal undisturbed for at least 5 day increments. This became a new way for me to measure time outside of a c...
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