After the winter, grieving and dull,
\nI flourished here all spring. Sweet light<\/p>\n
began to fill my chest. I pulled up
\na chair. Sat for hours in front of the sea.<\/p>\n
and the sound of a bell. I wanted
\neverything behind me. I even wanted<\/p>\n
to become inhuman. And I did that.
\nI know I did. (She’ll back me up on this.)<\/p>\n
I remember her the morning I closed the lid
\non memory and turned the handle.<\/p>\n
out here, sea. Only you and I know.
\nAt night, clouds form in front of the moon.<\/p>\n
By morning they’re gone. And that sweet light
\nI spoke of? That’s gone too.<\/p>\n
Raymond Carver<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
After the winter, grieving and dull, I flourished here all spring. Sweet light began to fill my chest. I pulled up a chair. Sat for hours in front of the sea. and the sound of a bell. I wanted everything … Continue reading