The day is emptylike this house—tentative, flat,merged with the landscape. Each layer residesinside its own dimension–unfinished, ajar. Spinning in circles,a surface with no inside–an imprint of thought. A moment’s whimsy–not really a door at all–more like a portal— A passageway to somewherein the middle of between My final entry to the Thursday Doors May Writing … Continue reading Interpolated (Thursday Doors)
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