27 November 2011
Still.
Stardust is
the hardest thing
to hold out for.
You must
make of yourself
a perfect plane—
something still
upon which
something settles—
something like
sugar grains on
something like
metal, but with
none of the chill.
It’s hard to explain.
—Kay Ryan
Labels:
daily life,
noticing,
poetry,
sky
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