top of page
Search

The shadow-past…

The shadow-past is shaped By everything that never happened. Invisible, it melts the present Like rain through karst. A biography of longing, It steers us like magnetism, A spirit torque. This is how one becomes undone — By a smell, a word, a place, The photo of a mountain of shoes. By love that closes its mouth Before calling a name.

Anne Michaels, Fugitive Pieces

Recent Posts

See All
Untitled

We look at the world once, In childhood. The rest is memory. ~ Louise Glück

 
 
 
A birdsong can …

A birdsong can even, For a moment, Make the whole world Into a sky within us, Because we feel that the bird Does not distinguish Between...

 
 
 
Leaving

And we: spectators, Always, everywhere, Looking at everything, And never from! Who’s turned us round Like this, So that whatever we do,...

 
 
 

Comments

bottom of page