Thursday, December 27, 2012

edgar allan poe

I can't say that I've ever been a big fan of American gothic literature. Of course I’m familiar with The Raven - hear its echoes every time I declare ‘nevermore.’ I hear it even now, as I prepare to close out this year and begin a new one: A clean slate. Some definite lines in the sand. Eyes forward, onward and upward.

Ravens fascinate me with their sleek blackness, their curiosity and intelligence. If I were to be a bird, I think I’d like to be a Raven. Though perhaps not the kind that scrounge through garbage bins. I bet Ravens spend little time looking backwards.
This fine fellow is our bedroom doorstop. I call him Edgar, and trust him to keep my night's restful..

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