It's always wonderful to go away when you like coming home, especially if where you've been visiting was lovely as well. During my all-day travels yesterday, I read most of Galway Kinnell's "The Book of Nightmares." It is an astonishing work. Here's a taste:
extant in memory by the blue Juniata
across space I guess
will be all we will know of one another.
So little of what one is threads itself through the eye
of empty space.
The self is the least of it.
Let our scars fall in love.
Song of the day:
The Microphones | I Want Wind To Blow