It seems as though the world is anxiously waiting for spring.
But I'm not quite ready to shed my layers and break down my walls of cozy quietness.
So as New York is dawning on its first days of warm weather, I'll be biding my time in the depths of my blankets.
While I was out with my parents today, I found this pocket-sized book of Edgar Allan Poe's poetry.
From childhood's hour I have not been
My heart to joy at the same tone-
And all I lov'd-I loved alone-
Then- in my childhood-in the dawn
Of a most stormy life was drawn
From the red cliff of the mountain-
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold-
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by-
"Alone" by Edgar Allan Poe
photos from Ffffound.