MAKURA NO SOSHI: A WOMAN WHO LOVES INSECTS
Monday, August 23, 2004
TONIGHT . . .
There's a low, steady roll of thunder, the popcorn sputter of raindrops striking the air conditioner, and the breathy swish of trees brushing their wet sleeves against the night.
There's wind, and it makes the wind chimes play their obsessive, four-note melody over and over, the hollow wood chimes softly rattling like bones.
I like it . . . this roll, strike, swish, chime, and rattle. Roll, strike, swish, chime, and rattle.
It makes me sad in the way I
like
to be sad.
Posted by Artichoke Heart |
1:02 AM
|
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