Loving the fragment is the finest way to celebrate the whole. Because a fragment is whole. And holy. Now, think of soil as fragment. Think of carrots; consider their tops -- delicious feathery fragments waiting to be gathered into a whole dish of pesto. This is to be savored on bread with fresh tomatoes while reading Sappho.
Fragments are your friends.
I'm a fan of fragments too.
ReplyDeletethanks for posting, Glenn. Yea, I think we're both smitten by fragments.
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ReplyDeleteYou can't imagine how it felt to...
Then the glass dropped so we had to rush to clean it up. I didn't even want to know, actually, which became a point of mighty contention as the years went on. If only I had wrapped the ice cube in a towel and held it to my head, what a difference I suppose it would have made.
Now picture me picking up the package left by the door.