Or maybe your POE today?

Edgar Allan Poe, THE RAVEN, second stanza...

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -

Nameless here for evermore.

Image of Cave Bird by Leonard Baskin 29.25" x 20"Etching.