On keeping a book you will not finish
The afternoon does not remember the way I do. I keep the sentence I meant to say, and the reason I did not say it. The afternoon keeps the light on the table, the cup left where a hand set it down, and the chair still pulled a little away from its place. By evening […]
What we keep in Sunday rooms
The afternoon does not remember the way I do. I keep the sentence I meant to say, and the reason I did not say it. The afternoon keeps the light on the table, the cup left where a hand set it down, and the chair still pulled a little away from its place. By evening […]
A letter folded and never sent
The afternoon does not remember the way I do. I keep the sentence I meant to say, and the reason I did not say it. The afternoon keeps the light on the table, the cup left where a hand set it down, and the chair still pulled a little away from its place. By evening […]
The hour the room turns violet
The afternoon does not remember the way I do. I keep the sentence I meant to say, and the reason I did not say it. The afternoon keeps the light on the table, the cup left where a hand set it down, and the chair still pulled a little away from its place. By evening […]
