“No matter how fast light travels it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.”
a sunday well navigated. early in the garden and reading. to the road and the modulated mid-spring endofthewoods where the dog and i walk. we wade into the encroaching tide to spy sketched-out grapevine nurseries and the appaloosa phlox. beyond our sway cardinals engage in ancient terretorial duels and the chipmunk metropolis hesistates along our pause. writing it down i notice in both the notebooks the work of the leftbrain are like legos in a cup of tea.
ribcage clouds and the locust blossoms smell like snow and something baking.
the widow throws her mothers day roses over the bank to feed next years crocus. last week the old woman at the turn rolled the snapneck skunk carcass down into her far ditch and today not even the dog is curious.
recent random word poems:
"swans and tigers"
an intricate web
the woman i love.
the northern border
the dog doesnt like heat, water or riding so i scribble in the rare shadow on the verge with paganini crickets vibrating crescendos in the tall grass. out and about of an evening a walk about the shire to see how folk are buttoning up for the flirting darkness. waves of dames rocket and fresh hummingbird food, an apple and a kiss. i get hired to play Chauncey ("This is just like television, only you can see much further") Gardiner for The Business. even that relationship is clarified, brass tacks all around like stars in the reborn sky.
Remeber, "Life is a state of mind."
the house had been condemned and then abandoned. i razed it.
we can build something now together.
something strong and safe and worth living in.