er, este, behind the screen door of the living room, 30 minutes ago, after breakfast, over coffee, still checking papers, boo-hoo (the huhuhu series, atm at the moment series)
“… RANG the refrain along the hall, the prison,
Rose to the roof, the vaults of heaven above,
Pouring in floods of melody, in tones so pensive, sweet and strong, the like whereof was
never
heard,
Reaching the far-off sentry, and the armed guards, who ceas’d their pacing,
Making the hearer’s pulses stop for extasy and awe. …” Walt Whitman
