27 December 2013
I’m packing my bags and writing this in a hurry. I am going away for three days outside the city. I’m not sure if I will be able to have internet connection there, but I will write my letters nevertheless and post them when I get back on the 30th.
For now, a poem:
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.