Be still, or at the very most, swing slowly
“The near stillness recalls what is forgotten, extinct angels.” – Georg Trakl This week, the same message came to me from four places: on a table, while driving up Hillside Street, by a bonfire, and watching a tree swing trace its lazy arc. On the table She opened the door. “Hi,” she said, “it’s good to see you.” “You, too!”…
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