Peeling back
layers

(Eustace Clarence)

how many days
(months)
did I ignore
the crust(s)?

I almost deserved it.

never staring

never leaning forward,
not even my neck,
only
sitting
with my ankles crossed

quite ladylike

Pleased.

(A cat?)

But not pleased.

...

A storm in the wind

--not a bad one--
a good one.

The air
changed

thunder
rumbled
(1--2--3--4--5 Five miles!)
far, far away,
across the solemn Alps, the siren Alps
(or perhaps only a cornfield)

but underneath

something blinked.

Pricked up its ears.

One drop
slid down my cheek.
It was rain

It was.

...

too much in (and such stuff)
too little out

milk

Flannery O'Connor: no pleasure before discipline.

The habit of art.

Madeleine L'Engle: freedom within form.

The sonnet.

But there must be

must be

a well of water
springing up
to eternal life

within my soul.

...

Bright Sheng : The Nightingale and the Rose
modern
cacophonous
tumultuous
trumpets

and
yet

at the last note
I am
leaning
forward.

Spine, shoulders, chin.

And the thunder is here. The wind, the rain, the chill.

Deliciously here.

"Weee aarre hheerre!"