domingo, 27 de enero de 2013

Insuperable: James Baldwin, Just above my head



The summer ended. Day by day, and taking its time, the summer ended. The noises in the street began to change, diminish, voices became fewer, the music sparse. 

Daily, blocks and blocks of children were spirited away. Grown Ups retreated from the streets, into the houses. 

Adolescents moved from the sidewalk to the stoop to the hallway to the stairs, and rooftops were abandoned. 

Such trees as there were allowed their leaves to fall - they feel unnoticed - seeming to promise, not without bitterness, to endure another year. 

At night, from a distance, the parks and playgrounds seemed inhabited by fireflies, and the night came sooner, inches in closer, fell with a greater weight. 

The sound of the alarm clock conquered the sound of the tambourine, the houses put on their winter faces. The houses stared down a bitter landscape, seeming, not without bitterness, to have resolved to endure another year.

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