He curtseys and bows
Then folds his wings
Ever so politely.
He lifts his brows
Then oh, he sings
‘Til you pass on quietly.
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He curtseys and bows Then folds his wings Ever so politely. He lifts his brows Then oh, he sings ‘Til you pass on quietly. If you’re not familiar with it, This American Life is a fascinating program. Even their off episodes are damn good, and it’s worth your time to give it a try. You can find it in podcast form on the website or iTunes for free. I was struck by a long poem by David Rakoff in [...] We’re coming up on…what…three years since my little brother Michael died. I find myself thinking about him more often than you might expect. It’s a sobering, melancholy kind of thought – fitting, I suppose. A poem, and a photo…enjoy. Morning Reverie The morning air is fresh, sweet, and clear as day when the sun’s burn’d all the clouds away and in the distance breakers rush departing, then returning in them seen my heart’s desire, seaward yearning in this place, in this time looking to the grey-ghost skies I find my troubles seem to dim yet like the sun, my spirit’s [...] |
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All content and images © 2012 John Wesley Thompson unless otherwise noted. • h e x / / i n k studio • All Rights Reserved. |
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