Fragment December 13, 2018 by Life With Horace 7 Comments Each time I try to find the edge of space, searching in the darkest part of blue, past stars and their hangers on orbiting a single mote of dust, it turns out I’m that bird expecting infinity but finding sudden glass. For Mary Oliver. Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading... Related Author: Life With Horace Poetry & Essays
December 13, 2018 at 4:21 pm
I love this!
December 13, 2018 at 10:29 pm
Thank you Susan.
March 18, 2019 at 10:02 am
❤️❤️❤️ Really like this ❤️❤️❤️
March 18, 2019 at 11:05 pm
Thank you. It is a particular favorite at the moment.
June 22, 2019 at 2:56 pm
Now that I live in the country, I search the sky and the stars for meaning. The birds hit the glass more than I like. Usually they are stunned, recover ,and fly off.
Yes, I search the stars,hit the glass,and keep on going. But for how long?
Kate this is lovely work.
July 7, 2019 at 10:30 pm
Beth, what a nice surprise to see your comment. Thank you.
July 9, 2019 at 8:10 am
Your surroundings seem emotionally rich. This is a good place to be now.
I enjoy vacuuming certain rugs ..I feel my mother and grandmother’s ghosts vacuuming with me..we all stood over these carpets. Who could believe that simple housework now feels like an honor.?
How is the family?