Fix #9 - ekphrastisize some poems

For ekphrastic articles, add `ekphrastic` node to YAML metadata.
This node includes subnodes `image`, `title`, `alt`, `link`, and `class`.
`image` provides a link to the local image--just include the file name
with the extension, not the folder (all images should be in /img/.)
`title` provides the title of the image, and the alt-text, if there
is no `alt` node.
`alt`, if it exists, provides the alt text for the image.
`link`, if present, wraps the image in an `<a>` tag--it should point
to the source web page of the ekphrastic image.
`class`, if present, sets the class(es) for the image, for styling.

In this commit, I've set `ekphrastic` on the four articles that have
them so far: 'The Death Zone,' 'AMBER alert,' 'The moon is gone,' and
'Man.' I've also updated .template.html with the changes, and updated
README.md to reflect the changes in YAML structure.

1 files changed, 5 insertions, 6 deletions

@@ -37,12 +37,11 @@
             
                     </header>
 
-        <section class="content prose">
-            <p>“What do you do all day in that shed out back” his mother asked one night while they ate dinner in front of the TV. “Write” he answered. “Write what” she asked in that way that means he’d better not say I don’t know. “I don’t know” he said.</p>
-            <p>“Goddammit Paul” his mother said. “You’re <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177229">wasting your life</a> out in that shed. You need to go out and get—” “I chop down trees too” he said. “I make furniture out of them.” His mother’s face did a Hitchcock zoom as she considered this new information. “Is it any good” she asked, eyes narrowed.</p>
-            <p>“It’s getting there” he answered. “I’m getting better every day.” “When is it going to be there” she asked. “When are you going to sell <a href="real-writer.html">this furniture</a> of yours?” “It’ll be a while” he answered.</p>
-            <p>“Then you’d better get a job until then” she said.</p>
-        </section>
+        
+        <section class="content prose"><p>“What do you do all day in that shed out back” his mother asked one night while they ate dinner in front of the TV. “Write” he answered. “Write what” she asked in that way that means he’d better not say I don’t know. “I don’t know” he said.</p>
+<p>“Goddammit Paul” his mother said. “You’re <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177229">wasting your life</a> out in that shed. You need to go out and get—” “I chop down trees too” he said. “I make furniture out of them.” His mother’s face did a Hitchcock zoom as she considered this new information. “Is it any good” she asked, eyes narrowed.</p>
+<p>“It’s getting there” he answered. “I’m getting better every day.” “When is it going to be there” she asked. “When are you going to sell <a href="real-writer.html">this furniture</a> of yours?” “It’ll be a while” he answered.</p>
+<p>“Then you’d better get a job until then” she said.</p></section>
     </article>
     <nav>
                 <a class="prevlink" href="notes.html"