Tuesday, December 1, 2009


The lawn
Is pressed by unseen feet, and ghosts return
Gently at twilight, gently go at dawn,
The sad intangible who grieve and yearn....

T.S. ELIOT, To Walter de la Mare

Image source.


Sara said...

You seem to be in a very death/dark mood today, lol.

I do realize that 80% of your posts refer to these things, but still...

Rot said...

: )

Maybe I was extra gloomy