(01-18-2021, 03:32 PM)Lipripper660 Wrote: Like a skein of loose silk blown against a wall
She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens
This Ezra Pound poem The Garden came to my mind as a shaved this morning. I hadn’t thought of it in two decades I am sure but the words came back to me as clear and bright as a high mountain spring morning and I was once again feeling what I felt the first time I read it. In my minds eye I could envision a too-thin woman moving through the garden, blown on the breezes of life of which she felt little control. Her hair and clothing lending an air of sophistication and old money and.......loneliness. Perhaps it’s the floral and herbaceous nature of the soap that triggered the memory but whatever the reason I sure enjoyed the trip.
She would like someone to speak to her,
And is almost afraid that I will commit that indiscretion.
Educated cowboys are badass - mens sana en corpore sano