The previous days are prayer. Lamentations precisely. A blue litany going. In the garden, water trickles, gulping sounds, rolling apple folk song. Please remember what was said here about suisecki. Now that we're all familiar with the space.
Pulling together the data requires a plan like quilting. Quite the opposite. The field in which the old fairs were held unmowed. Beneath the hydrangea, chickens. The heat, the desire, the loss.
Or the novel and its well of ambition. From a distance, grackles. Bigger than the mountain but how can that be if I didn't suddenly. Khaki-colored kit bag, harmonica in A, a bicycle, a map. The day's as long as what remembered line. Tell me the story of the three brothers again.
Okay wait . . . wait. Oh in down, in the murk, oh now.