The worst sound I've ever heard

It's easy for us to remember a horrible taste or an absolutely repugnant smell. It's easy to remember the worst thing we've ever tasted, smelled or seen. However...have you ever thought about the worst sound you've ever heard? I have, and here it is:

The day my dad died, we had a funeral (memorial) service on a sailboat. We took his ashes out in the Bay and scattered them there. As we were leaning over the edge of the boat, the most horrible sound I've ever heard came out of my stepmother's throat. It was as if pain had a sound, something like a guttural, animal-like noise. She was obviously in grief, but it wasn't the simple sound that someone makes when they're crying. Instead, it was pure pain and hurt coming out of her throat. If I had to pick one sound to never hear again, that would be it.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

Now that the weather is cold and miserable, everyone seems to be getting sick. I think we should remember the nice weather and beautiful times and stay positive. Seeing as how daffodils are my favorite flower, here is one of my favorite relaxing poems. Stay healthy and remember that spring is on the way (even if the groundhog does disagree!)

"I wandered lonely as a cloud"
by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

the subway inspires me...

Lately I have really loved some poems that I read on the subway. Here is one from about a year ago that my sister and I really like:

"The sands whispered, be separate,
The stones taught me, be hard.
I dance, for the joy of surviving,
on the edge of the road."
~Stanley Kunitz