I would go to the war—I would kill and maybe die—because I was...– “On the Rainy River,” Tim O’Brien
Little Summer Poem Touching the Subject of Faith...
Every summer I listen and look under the sun’s brass and even into the moonlight, but I can’t hear anything, I can’t see anything — not the pale roots digging down, nor the green stalks muscling up, nor the leaves deepening their damp pleats, nor the tassels making, nor the shucks, nor the cobs. And still, every day, the leafy fields grow taller and thicker — green...
To look at the river made of time and water And remember that time is another...– Jorge Luis Borges. Ars Poetica. (via seeyoulateraggregator)