She grabbed a book of poetry after going back to the kitchen to bring out the breakfast. She liked Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson, and she felt that the poems they wrote portrayed a special sense of beauty and vividness. "Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all," "And sweetest in the gale is heard, And sore must be the storm, that could abash the little bird, that kept so many warm." "I've heard it in the chillest land," "And on the strangest seas;" "Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me." Emily had just gotten married at that time and her husband had gone to war. They could not meet each other, nor they did not have cell phones. The letters they sent took ages to arrive. She waited for days, weeks, months, and finally, the devastating news came. Her husband had died in the war. Emily must have been extremely miserable. Compared to her, Wave
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