How the sky draws down, this time of year, when it’s newly spring: there is no urgency to its ending, not like fall or winter: it is the start of the long days of haplessness, the spooling out of light, and all that comes with it. And here as I sit a storm front moves in, the warm and cool air doing a dance, a street fight, the clouds furrowed brows: how much like a storm it can feel to us on the insides, how much we are one with the season ourselves, bound by it, though we call it “disorder.” The only order’s nature’s order. It’s not clear why the sky draws down like that. I just sit and feel like I am one with it.
Bill Pearse 
Love the title and first line.
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Ha, thanks buddy!
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Gorgeous!
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Thanks Jazz!
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Your stuff reminds me a bit of Ed Abbey, ever read him? Am in a re-read of Desert Solitaire at the moment, and he has that mix of beauty, fear and darkness you cultivate.
On Mon, Apr 1, 2019 at 5:52 PM William Pearse | pinklightsabre wrote:
> pinklightsabre posted: “How the sky draws down, this time of year, when > it’s newly spring: there is no urgency to its ending, not like fall or > winter: it is the start of the long days of haplessness, the spooling out > of light, and all that comes with it. And here as I sit a stor” >
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Where’s my CD?
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On its way – am heading over in a day or two and have it packed already. Am hoping to head for the ocean beaches sometime during 4/25 through the 29th, weather dependent.
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