death is a place

and love is the way

Pages

▼
Showing posts with label Mark Strand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Strand. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 28, 2021

the remains

›
     .   I empty myself of the names of others. I empty my pockets. I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road At night I turn back the...
1 comment:
Friday, September 17, 2021

piece of the storm

›
.  From the shadow of domes in the city of domes, A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your room And made its way to the arm ...
Friday, June 4, 2021

keeping things whole

›
  . When the soul leaves the body, it is  no longer under the burden  and control of space and time. The soul is free;  distance and separat...
Monday, November 7, 2016

The End

›
. Not every man knows what he shall sing at the end, Watching the pier as the ship sails away, or what it will seem lik...
Thursday, December 4, 2014

My Life, 25 - 28

›
. I grow into my death. My life is small and getting smaller. The world is green. Nothing is all. –Mark ...
Sunday, November 30, 2014

The End

›
    . Not every man knows what he shall sing at the end, Watching the pier as the ship sails away, or what it will seem li...
›
Home
View web version
Powered by Blogger.