Angels and ministers of grace defend us
About Me
- puddle
- Water gathering most days I wait through blue and sun till dusk or even later and the rose has faded to lavender, to gray some days, the sleet has started and the leaves underfoot are slick with ice somehow I'm never sorry and never learn one night I waited till the stars were out dropped the bucket into sound, only felt the weight of it filling and the night full of stars and the river full of stars and the bucket full of stars come morning, the coffee is also full of stars
1 comment:
Hi puddle. I think this picture is a good one to add.
http://static.flickr.com/27/60109039_889e39fc31_m.jpg
It's an eerie statue--it looks neither male nor female. Henry Adams commissioned the memorial two years after the suicide of his wife, Clover
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