It is dusk. The birds sweep low to the lake and then dive up. The wind picks a few leaves off the ground and turns them into wheels that roll a little way and then collapse. There’s nothing like branches planted against the sky to remind you…
4 tygodnie temu
Seeing that there’s no other way, I turn his absence into a chair. I can sit in it, gaze out through the window. I can do what I do best and then go out into the world. And I can return then with my useless love, to rest, because the chair is there.
4 tygodnie temu
Old shoes, where are you taking me now? You who’ve spent a night in the Pacific farther out than I dared to go— and I found you again, bedraggled in the morning, separated from each other by fifty feet of beach, salt in all your seams, and sand, and seaweed.…
4 tygodnie temu