...on the way here, walking down Pond Street, the sight of worlds beyond worlds: beyond the bus stop sign: houses, beyond those: some grey clouds, beyond them: some pink clouds, and beyond those: the blue sky of daylight and the beginning of eternity (which i assume is also present in each fragment of everything...)
and while i inscribed that on the handheld a small bird to my left kept calling and the hammering continued across the water... and the west wind (yesterday so destructive*) kept blowing gently on my right cheek... fallen twigs and branches everywhere... but, wonder, some willow catkins are already in bloom (and nothing else is, as yet)...
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© 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006 john chris jonesIf you wish to reproduce any of this text commercially please send a copyright permission request to jcj at publicwriting.net