The Sheaves A Poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson www.poetrynook.com Where long the shadows of the wind had rolled, Green wheat was yielding to the change assigned; And as by some vast magic undivined The world was turning slowly into gold. Like nothing that was ever bought or sold It waited there, the body and the mind; And with a mighty meaning of a kind That tells the more the more it is not told. So in a land where all days are not fair, Fair days went on till on another day A thousand golden sheaves were lying there, Shining and still, but not for long to stay— As if a thousand girls with golden hair Might rise from where they slept and go away. farmingseasonschangemelancholy
Guidelines for Brutalist Web Design An Article by David Bryant Copeland brutalist-web.design Content is readable on all reasonable screens and devices. Only hyperlinks and buttons respond to clicks. Hyperlinks are underlined and buttons look like buttons. The back button works as expected. View content by scrolling. Decoration when needed and no unrelated content. Performance is a feature. What On Earth is a Brutalist Website?The split personality of brutalist web development brutalismwwwhtml