Now and then the birch trees. Up river a fantasy.
Across town a birth.
Rain carries dreams of foreigners.
“None love, but they who wish to love.” (Racine)
My childhood home was a very small house.
More and more I want to return there.
Laughing in the mornings.
The dogs approve.
I must do their laughing for them.
“Silence, healing.” (Heraclitus)
000000s in the ear.
Yesterday my neighbor washed his house.
Like Pentti Saarikoski
I like to imagine Ezra Pound
Without his snakes.
If you were like me you’d be quiet too.