On The Burden of Flowering — O at the Edges


On the Burden of Flowering Even the cactus wren surrenders itself to the task, though it rarely listens to my voice. How do clouds blossom day to day and leave so little behind? The bookless shelf begs to be filled, but instead I watch the morning age as the sun arcs higher. Yesterday you said […]

via On The Burden of Flowering — O at the Edges

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