Sunday, January 11, 2015

6246. ALL THESE LAMENTATIONS

ALL THESE LAMENTATIONS
The wind itself has regrets  - it's hiding out
in the willows and singing a Kaddish all of
its own. I won't know anything about that
until another day. Right now  -  for me  -  
the walls are freshly white-washed and
the big room has new lighting. Every
gallery goes through this. Each show
had to be cleaned out anew before
they can hang the next.
-
If that was like Life, I'd be always
on the move. I love too many things
while loving really nothing and none.
It's all a passing glimmer to me. Be not
set-up yourself  -  please  -  for anything
long-lasting at all. Pippa passes, as 
Robert Browning would say.
-
And now, and now, and now...

No comments: