Tuesday, October 17, 2006

insignificant but desirable

the past.
there beneath the may-trees on warmest of evenings reading on past and disregarded events. moss and its shiny dampness by the dark river and tree roots twisted on worn away banks. the dark soil. black stones taken as forest patches. the day’s wisdom begins to fade into scales of gray pink.

leave now.
I shall go forth alone.

I whispered.
NB. may also be read here
as idiot.deProfundis blog has been deleted.

No comments:

Post a Comment