Tag Archives: #proust

Closer Then It constitutes the lastgasp of a wordless haiku—peeringthrough snow drift icicles ona zen photographer’s windowpane in bright alabaster winter islike watching stars melt inside theexpanse of a late period Rothko. Ground German glass piercesthe fog of memory spirits—eachrecalled and submitted for reviewbefore imminent trial and sentencing. Like the actor gazing througha cigar hazeContinue reading “Closer Then”