Monday, January 25, 2010
lines of pine bristles shivering like threads from an unfinished hem. traffic lights swaying in awkward unison. rain in winter is sadness. even usually beloved storms. snowbanks cradling pavement melt to nothing. artificial rivers carve away the sheltering white like knives. the piercing eyes of passersby. not quite redeemed by my exhilaration in the humidity.