From 3-5 PM on the second Sunday of most every odd-numbered month (Jan, March, etc) https://teapawt.org/t.co/NRveqSJYx2
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ALT A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning Wreck That told no Tale And let no Witness in The mind was built for mighty Freight For dread occasion planned How often foundering at Sea Ostensibly, on Land
ALT Making a Sound Like Darkness If it weren't immodest, I'd say modesty's one of the few things left about me that I can almost admire, still, except it's hardly a thing worth caring one way or another about, to have been who one is. Look at the trees, not trying at all to be anyone's idea of flourishing without an instinct to make what can't be held holdable: the struggling first; the bit of hush, just after; then the longer shadows getting cast by everything I remember wanting.
ALT The Uses of Sorrow Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.
