The sea pronounces something, over and over, in a hoarse whisper; I cannot quite make it out.
A lake carries you into recesses of feeling otherwise impenetrable.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Quote of the Day, 9/14/06
New hot water heater, rain, water off the pear trees, laundry, thirst, planning two more trips to the Maine coast.... I've got water on the brain today.