Monday, March 19, 2007

Nose to the smelling salt mines

I liked my metaphors mixed, not shaken.

I was going to go in search of a poetry fix tonight, but I ended up staying home and adding to my travelogue. My notes I kept in my notebook are a bit sparse, but I added some recollections of Prague online. It is easier for me to update the entries and keep them somewhat chronological than just add things willy-nilly as I think of them.

It was difficult to go back to work today, but I think I feel more well-adjusted now (as well-adjusted as I get, anyway).

It rained today. The pink cherry blossoms were all the more stunning against the grey.

In a Station of the Metro

The apparition of these faces in the crowd:
Petals on a wet, black bough

Ezra Pound (1913)

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