when i sing she doesn't care;
when i whistle she looks at me expectantly
From The Long Sad PartyMark Strand
Someone was sayingsomething about shadows covering the field, abouthow things pass, how one sleeps towards morningand the morning goes.
Someone was sayinghow the wind dies down but comes back,how shells are the coffins of windbut the weather continues.
It was a long nightand someone said something about the moon shedding its whiteon the cold field, that there was nothing aheadbut more of the same.
Someone mentioneda city she had been in before the war, a room with two candlesagainst a wall, someone dancing, someone watching.We begin to believe
the night would not end.Someone was saying the music was over and no one had noticed.Then someone said something about the planets, about the stars,how small they were, how far away.
Post a Comment