from Mappa Mundi - Phillip Gross
Apr. 2nd, 2009 06:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyII
In the land of always autumn
people build their houses out of fallen leaves
and smoke, stitched together with spiders' webs.
At night they glow like parchment lanterns and the voices
inside cluster to a sigh. Tell us a story, any story, except
hush, please, not the one about the wind.
I don't think in images often, but this bit is one of the things I've read that are most intensely visual to me. If I get time I'll post the whole poem tonight, once I'm done packing to go to Wales for a few days.
In the land of always autumn
people build their houses out of fallen leaves
and smoke, stitched together with spiders' webs.
At night they glow like parchment lanterns and the voices
inside cluster to a sigh. Tell us a story, any story, except
hush, please, not the one about the wind.
I don't think in images often, but this bit is one of the things I've read that are most intensely visual to me. If I get time I'll post the whole poem tonight, once I'm done packing to go to Wales for a few days.
