rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Occlusion

A gathering of clouds has veiled the moon, and now darken as it sets. A few starry patches remain, but are too small to reveal much sky. I doubt that I will see meteors tonight. The Leonids are seldom visible here, where November clouds are the norm. It is but a small disappointment, and leaves me none the worse.

Some verse:


Music, When Soft Voices Die

by Percy Shelley


Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory--
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heap'd for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
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