Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Shelter fragments still strewn--easier to destroy than construct


1 comment:

  1. "I stood there in the whirling summer,
    My hand capped a withered heart;
    And I thought of China and of Greece,
    Of Alexander in his tent,
    Of Montaigne in his tower,
    Of St. Theresa in her wild lament."

    (Eberhart's Groundhog has always been one of my favorites. --RJO)

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