Monday, December 31, 2018
Letters swallow themselves in seconds.
Notes friends tied to the doorknob,
transparent scarlet paper,
sizzle like moth wings,
marry the air.
So much of any year is flammable,
lists of vegetables, partial poems.
Orange swirling flame of days,
so little is a stone.
Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,
an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.
I begin again with the smallest numbers.
Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,
only the things i didn’t do
crackle after the blazing dies.
– Naomi Shihab Nye
Sunday, December 30, 2018
Saturday, December 29, 2018
Friday, December 28, 2018
Thursday, December 27, 2018
After spending six years 1200 miles from shore, he died, some say of poisoning, but others say of boredom. Of his few amusements, conversing with Count Emmanuel de Las Cases—“historian and loyal supporter who had been allowed to voyage with him to Saint Helena”—proved most stimulating. Prevented from receiving newspapers in French, he longed to read the few he found in English. Las Cases endeavored to teach Napoleon the language of his jailers, and the former Emperor struggled mightily to learn it. Eight pages in Napoleon’s own hand remain from his time as a student of English on St. Helena in the first few months of 1816.