no rain to speak of here, but maybe the mussells in florida got watered---a foot of rain or something in the panhandle---the sunset is starting to emerge from behind the plaza as it slowly moves to the south----
Posted by tomitron at 10/19/2007 07:13:00 PM
Each of us is all the sums he has not counted: subtract us into nakedness and night again, and you shall see begin in Crete four thousand years ago the love that ended yesterday in Texas.
The seed of our destruction will blossom in the desert, the alexin of our cure grows by a mountain rock, and our lives are haunted by a Georgia slattern, because a London cutpurse went unhung. Each moment is the fruit of forty thousand years. The minute-winning days, like flies, buzz home to death, and every moment is a window on all time.
john northbrooke, c. 1570
No comments:
Post a Comment