The air is thick like damaged feelings - the morning's seen better mornings - like the water was angry at the unhappy trees, but at last gave up, yielding to those persistent rooster crows.
– a nonnet.
The air is thick like damaged feelings - the morning's seen better mornings - like the water was angry at the unhappy trees, but at last gave up, yielding to those persistent rooster crows.
– a nonnet.
northbound stairs dawn sun sacrificial soul
wide wings
righthand turning brilliant daylight reflective meditations
cupric sea
downward view peremptory cloud empty thoughts
still trees
the gaze
encompasses
the world but
fails
to understand
anything
at all
slumped posture plain wall cluttered mind
simple window
An unexpected crisis crafts doubts. Why this body's betrayal, now? How is the world so unfair? Can anything be done? Where is this going? How bad is it? Who can help? What if? And?
– a nonnet.
Maybe there's something, despite the rain, that needs to get done. This dull rain cannot prevent such tasks. Rain speckles the water. Rain is a constant. Rain cleans hillsides. Rain greets me. Rain speaks. Rain.... Rain.
– a nonnet.
The last few days, the rain has returned. It's hard to find motivation. I make some progress with maps. It's nice to breathe wet air. Spots speckle water. The green trees bend. Insects fly. Streams race. Watch.
– a nonnet.
Fools suffer distressing vicissitudes, while the world just spins: cupric waters stand still, the bears stroll along the roads and the moon rakes the paling sky. So this fool sits and watches it all.
– a reverse nonnet.