Friday, March 19, 2010

E. 12th, facing West, head slightly back, upwards


Spring is stirring. One Way.

New York is a wonderful place to experience it. The color temperature suddenly compliments, where recently there was only the harsh, gelid light. New York's winter has famously long, cold and recognizable shadows, they are widely known to narrowly lean away from the sun, as if by choice.

Today the world seems rich in promise, with forgiving embraces.
Millions of yes.
Yes. yes. yes...

Winter is neither hell nor death, but only inasmuch as it is buttressed by that distant autumn and this, this yes, yes, yes's.

1 comment:

  1. what if a much of a which of a wind?
    . . . .
    all nothing's only our hugest home;
    the most who die, the more we live.

    that hideous mr. cummings

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