outwait outrun outwit





TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: profile


01.17.18

I am listening to a robin now, as it sings its heart out between storms. Undaunted, even as the sky darkens in seconds. It reminds me of a poem by DH Lawrence: "I never saw a wild thing / sorry for itself./ A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough / without ever having felt sorry for itself."





<<

hosted by DiaryLand.com

free
web stats