Wednesday, February 09, 2011


Morning: a pale orange ribbon wrapped around the horizon behind grey cotton-puffs that fill a fragile sky. Frost is sparkling everywhere, like the imagining of shattered glass. The street is still.

Can you wake without disturbing the sleep of others? Tread softly. In summer I am wakened by someone else's clock, but today only crows and cockerels announce the light to me.

Dawn is said to break. Today let there be no shattering: let gentle clouds be our blanket and our cushions. Let the sharp intricacies of frost soften to the tenderness of dew. Let there be mendage.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside

No comments: