I Can Wade Grief

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I can wade Grief—
Whole Pools of it—
I'm used to that—
But the least push of Joy
Breaks up my feet—
And I tip—drunken—
Let no Pebble—smile—
'Twas the New Liquor—
That was all!

Power is only Pain—
Stranded, thro' Discipline,
Till Weights—will hang—
Give Balm—to Giants—
And they'll wilt, like Men—
Give Himmaleh—
They'll Carry—Him!

by Emily Dickinson

Comments (1)

Cactis, porkupines, all spiky, crewcut spiky, herbert i touched a cacti once had no thought of prick's what so ever, did several lap's of yard, till pain died down turned me of gardening for life Will have a talk with dog about this one Warm regard's allan