52/54: Enough
Mar. 9th, 2025 09:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphIn lieu of dinner, there was a peanut butter sandwich. Daylight saving time resumed at two o'clock in the morning and I didn't even notice. Now it seems as late as the lying clock says it is, and I am tired and sad and confused. The clock lied me awake too early, I didn't know. Now my neck keeps trying to go out of joint. I'm going to have a cup of Mullein leaf tea and go to bed and hope I don't wake up paralyzed.
Sunday Verse
by Louise Glück
This is the moment when you see again
the red berries of the mountain ash
and in the dark sky
the birds' night migrations.
It grieves me to think
the dead won't see them—
these things we depend on,
they disappear.
What will the soul do for solace then?
I tell myself maybe it won't need
these pleasures anymore;
maybe just not being is simply enough,
hard as that is to imagine.
Sunday Verse
The Night Migrations
by Louise Glück
This is the moment when you see again
the red berries of the mountain ash
and in the dark sky
the birds' night migrations.
It grieves me to think
the dead won't see them—
these things we depend on,
they disappear.
What will the soul do for solace then?
I tell myself maybe it won't need
these pleasures anymore;
maybe just not being is simply enough,
hard as that is to imagine.
