Sunday, February 12, 2012

How the light gets in.

Walking to work, cutting lots near the library, something in the corner of my eye draws my attention. I look in time see myself disappear around the back of the building. It is uncanny to see yourself so, through a fracture in the universe. There is no use following. I disappeared yesterday walking to work. 


There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.


Zphx 20120210



at
Labels: , , , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Popular Posts Last 30 Days.

  • A Book of the Seasons: April Days
    A year is made up of  a certain series and number  of sensations and thoughts  which have their language in nature. Henry Thoreau, June 6, 1...
  • Snow last evening, about one inch deep
    March 27. 6.30 A. M. — To Island.  The ducks sleep these nights in the shallowest water which does not freeze, and there may be found earl...
  • April comes in true.
    April 1 The month comes in true to its reputation. We wake, though late, to hear the sound of a strong, steady, and rather warm rain on th...
  • Man comes out of his winter quarters this month
    March 30 To Island.  It is a little warmer than of late, though still the shallows are skimmed over.  The pickerel begin to dart from the sh...

The week ahead in Henry’s journal

The week ahead in Henry’s journal
A journal, a book that shall contain a record of all your joy.
"A stone fruit. Each one yields me a thought." ~ H. D. Thoreau, March 28, 1859


I sit on this rock
wrestling with the melody
that possesses me.
May 23, 1854