Thursday, February 24, 2011
This little flower blooms in the deep, deep dark, on the side of a seamount.
No light ever reaches it. If this delicate flower can bloom in the deep and dark, so can I.
This little flower blooms in the deep, deep dark, on the side of a seamount.
No light ever reaches it. If this delicate flower can bloom in the deep and dark, so can I.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
-
Rain I stand under a leafless tree more still, in this mouse-pattering thrum of rain, than cattle shifting in the field. It is more d...
-
My body awoke to the furnace of my mind branding all my misdeeds like cattle set to wander a grassless pasture I don't know why my mind ...
-
My favorite short story writers are Edward P. Jones and Jhumpa Lahiri. Lahiri's "Interpreter of Maladies" from the book of the...