Monday, March 12, 2007

JOURNAL: waiting for the wind

Late summer night and I wait for the wind, that beloved element which brings and disperses both. Say not that my vision fails me, the wind rises from the south and comes towards my door, sure of welcome or at least of pushing open my door, if not softening my heart. A late summer wind, I believe, still with warmth in it and softness of a kind once seen within these garden walls.
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