Splendor in the Grass

Last Friday, for some reason, I copied a poem by William Wordsworth entitled Splendor in the Grass.
Saturday came without a hitch, lazily I watched old Frazier reruns. 


Then came the dawn of Sunday.
 I woke up thinking of angels and souls. Just recently I read Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go. A poignant story of young people destined to be slaughtered for their body organs for other people who have debilitating diseases. These unfortunate young people happened to be clones.
The question that arose was, would clones have souls?
Mulling over this quandary, I told myself,
 "Souls like angel's wings should be earned."


I went downstairs, to get my first coffee of the day. I gave my mom some pandisal with cheese and a cup of coffee, and got some cabbage for my rabbit, Baby.
I called to her. But she didn't come to me. Quiet as all rabbits are, I was thinking maybe she just went upstairs or was just hiding under the sofa. My lazy feet dragged my slippers which made soft flapflaps on the tiled floor. It was a cool morning.


Then I saw her and I knew right away that something was awfully wrong. The way her body was splayed at her side. Her face so calm.She died quietly last night.
 It broke my heart.Maybe not my whole heart, but a tiny fracture of my heart has broken away, and I know I will never get it back again. I will miss her so.

What though the radiance

which was so bright

Be now forever taken from my sight

Though nothing can bring back the hour

Of splendor in the grass,

Of glory in the flower,

We will grieve not, rather find

Strength in what remains behind…

                  - Splendor in the Grass, William Wordsworth

Last Christmas

I gave you my heart