Which pops up, fresh and whole,
From the earthen black of a
Weed-eaten corner-lot in my soul...
Weed-eaten corner-lot in my soul...
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Random Rhymes From An Expat Living A Long Way From Home
Image by Mark Harm Niemeyer
Far Out (By Philip Larkin)
Beyond the bright cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on the air.
These have no proper names:
Men out alone at night
Never look up at them
For guidance or delight.
For such evasive dust
Can make so little clear:
Much less is known than not,
More far than near.
Blog Archive
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2010
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December
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- Morning Repast
- 2011
- Move, Baby, Move!
- Sports Shorts
- On A Blustery Christmas Day
- Winter Sunrise
- Floating Ash
- The World Is Not Fair
- What Birds Do In The Tree-Tops
- Vaguely-Remembered From 1990
- Evening Monster
- Waiting For The Final Score To Be Announced
- Japanese Imperial Army Reconnaissance Pilot
- Upon Hearing The Who In A Supermarket
- Up From The Dismal Funk
- It Started With Sony Walkman
- What I Did At Work Today, 20 December 2010
- Insomnia
- 7, 5, 3
- Damned Sooners
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