I’m watching out the window the cat stalk the robin pulling up worms don’t say a word so I must be complicit when you fire into the dark trees when you fire round after round into the dark trees without knowing who hides there until we stop.
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(51 words, estimated 12 secs reading time)
The tree frog’s two syllables rising from night trees sound exactly like a plea, or like a final question: is it is it is it, and it means oh what a night we inhabit together, hanging our songs out in the cool air like blessings on the doorframe.
Until I found my life there, I was afraid of the dark. Until it had hidden me from grave danger, I didn’t know how close the embrace of night in all its splendor through which I could hear voices and footsteps but was never seen.
Metaphysical There full post
(121 words, estimated 29 secs reading time)