rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Stolen Hour Night

For a while, mist falls, and the long streets take on a dark sheen. A faint drumming arrives as the trees begin to shed the accumulated moisture. I know the forest will be filled with the scent of last year's pine needles, dampened where they lie slowly returning to soil. The grasses in the fields will be wet, and would dampen my pant legs were I walking there. It would be a pleasant sensation, but I will not disturb the perfect serenity. Rather, I will hold the thought of it, pure, and free of any human footsteps. Perhaps the deer wander there, browsing on moist, green shoots. There is no need for my presence there when there so easily comes to me, a fragrance on the chill, mist-laden breeze.

Sunday Verse

Taking a Walk with You

by Mark Strand

Lacking the wit and depth
That informs our dreams'
Bright landscapes,
This countryside
Through which we walk
Is no less beautiful
For being only what it seems.
Rising from the dyed
Pool of its shade,
The tree we lean against
Was never made too stand
For something else,
Let alone ourselves.
Nor were these fields
And gullies planned
With us in mind.
We live unsettled lives
And stay in a place
Only long enough to find
We don't belong.
Even the clouds, forming
Noiselessly overhead,
Are cloudy without
Resembling us and, storming
The vacant air,
Don't take into account
Our present loneliness.
And yet, why should we care?
Already we are walking off
As if to say,
We are not here,
We've always been away.

  • Reset Seventeen, Day Fifteen

    Once again I've forgotten when I went to sleep, but I woke up around two o'clock in the morning. Tuesday was quite warm, and I kept the windows open…

  • Reset Seventeen, Day Fourteen

    I don't recall the exact hour, but it was well before midnight Monday, when I felt the sudden need for a nap. I expected it to last until perhaps two…

  • Reset Seventeen, Day Thirteen

    Didn't feel well Sunday, so I didn't do anything. Of course I never do anything anymore anyway, so just like any day. Except I sneezed more. It was…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.