Saturday, October 11, 2003

onward blindly onward 

once again, in tidal years or grope thru the room to the end of the bed to the door to plain speaking and the light in the hall to the laminated saying something to sad and here to a coast with wash of fog to the land of something to the back of memory to the green hollow to a loss and what to carry back and thru a call or condition to a name and a place and a word refined by margin and extent to the practice and the strength, as we all seem to know

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