I go amoung the trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
Around me like circles on water.
My tasks lie in their places
Where I left them, asleep like cattle.
Then what I am afraid of comes.
I live for a while in its sight.
And the fear of it leaves me.
It sings, and I hear its song.
~Wendell Berry
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Thursday, October 18, 2007
I go amoung the trees
Labels: poetry | Hotlinks: DiggIt! Del.icio.us
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