Tuesday, June 9, 2020

As an object morphs,


do we?  A simple dried magnolia leaf in the evening on the patio becomes a precipice.  Or a sand dune.  Or a simple dried magnolia leaf because the object was always a precise.  The color like my favorite wooden spoon burnished by experience.  Who have I become?

1 comment:

  1. These notes in a blue envelope

    astonishing window display
    of an old vacuum cleaner
    She says,
    "And the old man is running down the street
    yelling 'I had a horror of never finishing anything.
    I'll leave in pieces, they'll collect me in bits
    on the floor.'
    She panics, gets back to work.

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