Okay, if "to'" is read as short for "toast," then you CAN make sense of the subject line! (It certainly has nothing to do with his toe!)
Today is Poe's birthday. And an unknown watercolor portrait (by one A.C. Smith) of a younger, less melancholy Poe has just surfaced (see right). It should be a happy day for his unhappy spirit. But I suspect it's not because of the news about his annual toast.
Someone, dressed in dark clothes with their face hidden, has visited Poe's grave between midnight and dawn each year on Poe's birthday, to leave roses and cognac as a toast to the great writer's memory.
This did not happen today, according to the Associated Press. Perhaps Edgar Allan himself communicated in some way to the toaster* to tell him/her that the tribute was no longer needed. Maybe Poe is at last at rest...
But Happy Birthday, E. A., anyway! Wherever you are!
*And why not? I talk to my toaster! However, I'm no longer on speaking terms with my mixer, ever since it grabbed my tongue and yanked it. Couldn't speak to order a drink for more than a week!
Images copyright Associated Press.