Tuesday, April 12, 2016
living color
Shards of robin's eggshell on the sidewalk brick. That robin's egg blue, so called: a teal of bright sky with speckles sleeping. No remains of the egg. An incomplete mosaic. Shrapnel of life, as well as death. On Plum Street. By Solar. Remnants of rain. Beads on windshield. Hint of the hint of sun behind dusky cumulus. The suggestion of buds on branches. This day.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
Today has been a banner day: solid work prospects and a Washington Post Style Invitational three-peat : Report From Week 749 in which we ask...
-
It's not year's end, but we're nearly halfway there. Here's my running list of books read so far this year, in the order of ...
-
We know society exhibits moral outrage over serial killings, as well it should. But why the widespread apathy over the death throes of the s...
No comments:
Post a Comment