We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.A red wing rose in the darkness. And suddenly a hare ran across the road.One of us pointed to it with his hand. That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive,Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture. O my love,Continue reading “Encounter by Czeslaw Milosz”
I sip some water and think about my needsin this strange eraof pandemic’s and reamsof sorrowunraveling on my screenthat are not mineit’s a strange thingwhen sadness wakesyou to careyou had not knownyou had anymoreit’s strange how wallswe builddisintegrate, with tears.