take my hand and climb with me…

thirty three degrees: ‘balancing on one wounded wing…’

Adventures in Solitude ~ The New Pornographers

thirty three

Dawn breaks, unbroken. Tissue taut and twisted, weary as the wind. Searching for grace in the nothingness of space. Cruel crushing rocks, trial by passage, our unrelenting Symplegades. Hung by a thread. Above a wide open well. Fashion a bandage of words, cold pressed for comfort:

“ Expect nothing. Live frugally

   on surprise. ”

~ Alice Walker

Faith to the wandering. Strange strength in poetry, enough hope to rise. And stumble on.


To pay off a debt brought back from the wars…

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This entry was posted on November 2, 2012 by in Spring and tagged , , , , , , .


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