sábado, 17 de dezembro de 2016


sometimes there is something you need to do
just once.  walking along a channel in the winter sun
and watching the reflections go from blue to brown to
a momentary green, no one catching your eye but a wind
sweeping by briskly to remind you, it is just this once. you
think of Rilke and how he admonished us to never believe
the lie of holding on or having forever.  you pride yourself
on how close you get. the freest of spirits in the crowd,
how you can hold a hand so close to your heart, or your
parts, in the deep blue of one single night, and then raise your
glass to the freedom of roads and journeys. but then once again
in the specter of morning and the rough waves of finitude,  you
are  wondering again,  just how to hang on.

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