A Luminous Halo

"Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end." --Virginia Woolf

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Location: Springfield, Massachusetts, United States

Smith ’69, Purdue ’75. Anarchist; agnostic. Writer. Steward of the Pascal Emory house, an 1871 Second-Empire Victorian; of Sylvie, a 1974 Mercedes-Benz 450SL; and of Taz, a purebred Cockador who sets the standard for her breed. Happy enough for the present in Massachusetts, but always looking East.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

A Thousand Cranes

so many have loved us
rocked us
given us the names of their dead grandfathers
pledged themselves to us

we are the survivors
skin on skeleton
blameless, incorrupt
something in them hated
something in us
Wai Momi
Water of Pearl
the shark gods were long gone from the harbor

we are so damaged
shell shocked
we are here to say
that in this twisted wreckage
like honey in a cup
lies sweetness so intense
like the moth fluttering at the lantern
memory returns
like the crane flying over silver over black water
we are alive