My contribution to the Sixth Annual Blogger's (Silent) Poetry Reading:

A Dream Pang
by Robert Frost

I had withdrawn in forest, and my song
Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway;
And to the forest edge you came one day
(this was my dream) and looked and pondered long,
But did not enter, though the wish was strong:
You shook your pensive head as who should say,
'I dare not--too far in his footsteps stray-
He must seek me would he undo the wrong.'

Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all
behind low boughs the trees let down outside;
And the sweet pang it cost me not to call
and tell you that I saw does still abide.
But 'tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof,
For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof.

-----

I am very very tired.

The following has happened over the past week and half:  Emma had the monster flu with high fever for six days, then she was feeling better for approximately 11 hours except for residual violent phlegmy coughing, then she got a monster ear infection with high fever for three days.

She hardly ate.  She hardly moved.  She watched way too much TV.  She lay on the couch and whimpered pitifully.  She required a cold washcloth on her forehead every 30 minutes during the flu.  She required a warm ricebag on her sore ear every 30 minutes during the ear infection.  She required drinks. She required different drinks with ice.  She required new drinks without ice because it was too cold.  She required backrubs.  She required different pillows because hers were too flat/hard/scratchy/puffy/hot/lumpy/suffocating.  She required more blankets because she was cold.  She required fewer blankets because she was too hot.  She had to be carried to the bathroom because her legs were too wobbly.  Tylenol tastes "just awful" and requires a pitiful weak crying fit.  Amoxycillin tastes "horrible and gross" and precipitates a dramatic meltdown.  She had to sleep in my bed because hers was too lonely and cold.

Today she was better, and actually went to school.

I need a vacation.