And this but silver grief for grieving's sake,
If these green woods be dreaming here to wake
Within my heart, if I should rouse again.
But I shall sleep, for where is any death
While in these blue hills slumbrous overhead
I'm rooted like a tree? Though I be dead,
This earth that holds me fast will find me breath.
In order to calm my sister, Maverick, I thought I would find a poem that mentioned Mississippi. But, there are no famous or immortal poems in my books that give homage to the magnolia state. Instead I turned to a past resident of Mississippi, William Faulkner. I have to admit that I don't quite get this poem, and I have even taken a literature class that focused solely on the novels of Faulkner. (Yes, I did take that class electively. Loved it. Taught by the then dean of undergrad studies at FSU, Elizabeth Muhlenfield.) Let's just say that Faulkner was a much better novelist and short story writer than poet.