Wednesday, March 30, 2005

painted ladies...

i haven't a yardstick for the amount of strange today.

tens of thousands of orange butterflies came just when i was feeling low. an arc above the roof peak. had there been an invisible updraft and sparks. or dead leaves. a soft swell that collapsed. sustained though. aloft. i stationary. they stationless. constant flux. right down to the grass tops. north. northeast. lambent.

then i had to leave. a type of rescuing we've not had to perform for some years. a long wait in a cold place. i counted bricks for over four hours. not compulsive mind. boredom. i began to wonder why lintels are lain that way. what makes a door. how we can pass back to the ride without crying. only just. a drop of wet wobbles open on dust. this is how a free day passes then.

driving home after sunset. orion to one side. cassiopeia was someone's proud mother. chains make flint in the dark.

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