Tuesday, May 2, 2006

remind me

the errant strands of auburn, the comely curve of ear, the glimpsed gold, dangling, delicate: he stops short.
"margaret?", he whispers.
and when he stumbles, and she turns, he realises.
he feels old, and flushed, and foolish, but oddly exalted. she was so near, and she has been so far away for such a long time.


  1. I'm trying to figure out the text. Intrigues me. I like the photo as well. You've really got me here, Lynn. Where? When? A hundred questions, to say the least. I hope I can sleep now. Else I'll try to soothe my mind thinking of you. I'm a liar, you know, I'm so tired I'll likely fall fast asleep straight away.

  2. The golden light on the golden hedge, here at the entrance of the old house, ancient feeling of being home (thinking your soothing words, over and over).

  3. Wonder from what novel you took that from. Again a beautiful combination of text & image.