Sunday, March 31, 2019

Where A Lamp Is Lit

Light spills through a window filtered by a broken blind onto a littered street; a flood of warmth amidst blight. I imagine someone is sheltering there— away from the graffiti on the warped plywood boarding up the next house, the pawn shop wrapped in bars, needles on the ground.

-Patricia Thrushart
 http://www.thewatershedjournal.org/

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The Mind in the Wind Seeing Where Things Lie

I am riding the wind, surveying the damage of the storm as if I’m a bird caught on the wind currents handed off like a baton in a relay race...