In the haze your image
Trembled; it troubled
And eluded me: mistakenly
I said, ‘Good God!’The name of the Lord — a large bird —
Flew from my breast.
In front: a swirl of mist.
Behind: the empty cage.
— Osip Mandelshtam
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Everyone carries a room about inside him. This fact can even be proved by means of the sense of hearing. If someone walks fast and one pricks up one's ears and listens, say in the night, when everything round about is quiet, one hears, for instance, the rattling of a mirror not quite firmly fastened to the wall.
-
Kafka
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hi peter! thanks for the wonderful message at my blog — and sorry for replying so late. i go awol once or twice a year. anyway, i added you to my blog links. hope this is okay.
just wanted to say that i love your story in prick of the spindle. if you’re looking for venues for your work, do try us at press 1 (http://www.leafscape.org/press1/).
hope you’re having a great summer,
a.
I’m glad you liked it Arlene. I really rate your poetry.