Wednesday, March 04, 2009

An entrance, bathing and can't come in.

1. The rattle-click chord of Nick's key in the lock.

2. Stretching out full length in a warm bath and rubbing the soap out of my hair.

3. As we put the house and ourselves to bed, the wind in a temper throws itself against the windows.

Bud vase, tomato and the poem I needed to hear.

1. Among the faded cut daffodils that I'm putting on the compost heap there is one that will do for another day in a bud vase. 2. For th...