sunnudagur, júlí 01, 2007

ambit

Huge moon. It comes in the windows, first this one and then another. The dim outlines of everything are cast on the floor, creeping about their axes, sweeping moonwise not sunwise. One of the shadows making its circuit is spindly-legged and four-footed. I'll hear its toenails clicking all night.

Engin ummæli:

 
Hvaðan þið eruð