My thoughts today toward the Child Bride, who will have exhilarating "I was in London when" stories and a sense of death, cheated; they drift also to the Rider, who has just been bumped another inch more grown up. (Confession: first thought -- a retired IRA pensioner deep in his cups about now.)
2005-07-07
Rachel
Previous Posts
- I have behaved hideously. Callous and thoughtless ...
- mehr.mehr.
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- (dear Annette)XV Accuse me not, beseech thee, that...
- Scanning.
- My mother has no boundaries.
- With the Icelandic waves rolling in my chestand th...
- A blow to the core. These next weeks will be very ...
'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
'They called me the hyacinth girl.'
Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Od' und leer das Meer.
-- T.S. Eliot
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