15 years! Looks like it’s time to repost the old poem (’02, ’05, ’09). Happy Anniversary, Amy!

Do you know,
I would quietly slip
from the loud circle,
When first I know
the pale stars are blooming.

Ways will I elect
that seldom any tread,
In the pale ev’ning meadows.
And no dream but this:
You come too.

–Rainier Maria Rilke