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A Nuptial Nightmare

A dream I had the other night had me smiling with delight: A couple with their backs to me were taking vows of holy matrimony. My delight turned to dark suspicion, the minister looked like Waldo Emerson? When bride and groom turned in unison – that’s when I woke in a sweat, for lo! – it was Emily Dickinson and Henry D. Thoreau! She, the Amherst spinster and eccentric; he, the part-time, Walden pseudo rustic. But even the best of unions end abruptly. And so did theirs when he took her proudly to his self-built one-room Walden “mansion” which she on seeing burst out her derision, grew pale and begged: To Amherst take me back. They’ll be no wild nights in this one room shack!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

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Date: 6/21/2021 12:56:00 PM
a very amusing tale, maurice! you really brought it to life...
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Date: 6/21/2021 8:25:00 AM
Very enjoyable read, Maurice. I can actually picture such a scene from your descriptive dream. Jog my memory...were they neighbors? I have visited Thoreau's Walden Pond site.
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Maurice Rigoler
Date: 6/21/2021 9:33:00 AM
Hello! Dickinson and Thoreau were contemporaries and lived only 75 miles apart, but there is no evidence that they ever met. She did, however, enjoy reading his writings on nature. Given their eccentricities they could never have been compatible married mates. I never cared for Walden Pond. Happy to kno you enjoyed this fictional dream poem. / Maurice