here at the frontier, there are falling leaves. although my neighbours are all barbarians, and you, you are a thousand miles away, there are always two cups on my table.
Monday 21 March 2005
g-wood and belmont park
His face is burned and fixed in to my mind, and yet, if you asked, I couldn’t describe it to you. Gentle it was, with kindness and love come so startling from the unknown. As if I had looked into the face of a very old friend and found honest acceptance without prejudice or inhibitions. I loved and was loved in a split second and will live now in awareness of it.