Sunday, January 6

There's nothing like what is

fragile and momentary
as the pale yellow light along the windowsill
in winter north
of nowhere yet
if not for winter, nothing
would get done

would finally get done

I've been all around this world

and not to die in hell
not to die in the flames of hell homeless with a cell phone

There's nothing like today

And contributing one's atoms to the green universe
how strange is that
 - Franz Wright
from Shaving in the Dark
Walking to Martha's Vineyard

  • ". . . as I have said often enough, I write for myself in multiplicate,
    a not unfamiliar phenomenon on the horizon of shimmering deserts."
    - Vladimir Nabokov