Saturday, January 10, 2015

storm







.





Now the walker meets the giant oak.
Stone elk, it's crown is
furlongs wide against September ocean's
murky green.


Northern storm. Rowanberries ripen. 
Awake in the darkness, listening:
high above the tree top,
constellations stamping in their stalls.



–Tomas Tranströmer





.







No comments:

Post a Comment