Sunday, August 14, 2016

Hawk Season Notebook #183



Hawk Season Notebook #183

August morning. Move the irrigation hoses and sprinklers. Keep the non-native evergreens alive. Seek particular meaning in it all, no generalities.  Yet: string theory and warped circles of time and space... comprehension... awareness. Perhaps: at the center of black holes... a white floral mosaic. Or there is a backlot with lounging, between-takes Hollywood extras smoking cigarettes... drinking almost-cold, whiskey-laced coffee. Morning: the poignancy of all who are gone. You cannot find lost loves at the nearby train station. One last hose-end sprinkler to drag to beneath the Japanese maple.

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