fr. 8

For Sun's Portion Is Toil All His Days

He looks to myth.

Look: up every bone every sky every day every you—He goes working His way up blue earlobes from ocean goes thrown by rosesudden someone's already tomorrow goes riding His bed of dayside gold goes skimming sleep countries from west to east until sudden rosestopped someone's already earliness opens the back of the clock: He steps in.

Anne Carson

via J

**

LOVE YOU JACK.
the tempered light of the forest.
i'll be your "incommunicable" trees,

let's do this together

**

"Spring has begun here and each day
brings new birds up from Mexico.
Yesterday I got a call from the outside
world but I said no in thunder.
I was a dog on a short chain
and now there's no chain"

from Barking, Jim Harrison