I need to get on the highway right now, so I was planning to just post a photograph today---Ansel Adams' "Rose and Driftwood", which is truly amazing (see for yourself, here's the link)---but I'm having difficulty displaying it on the blog, so I'm posting a poem by William Blake instead:
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The Sick Rose
By William Blake
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
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