Nights—the long interims—when for a time
one’s mind is stifled in the stardust-storm…
Yet day does come—again all’s well—
suddenly a half-hidden tower
is warming the whole square
with the Doge-crimson velvet of its bells
I can feel each cloud as a thing
and seem to touch its turrets and to think
the great curve of its birth
and find then I am thanking
Some nights, too, there are clouds silvered by Death
sailing laden with star-oblivion
or hurled clouds have lost form
and brought mercy muffling all the stars from us
From the Paris Review : )
Rebecca is so talented!
Unlocking The Truth
Best video of the week… “right now I’m writing a book”.
interesting documentary, worth checking out
so excited for this new Boards of Canada!
this beat with Guilty Simpson is serious!