domingo, 8 de septiembre de 2013

What poets feel ...


?

or is it the inner floundering expression of you? I need an igloo, a warm igloo, if you don't mind. 

2 Comments:

Suzanne Stroh said...

Having built many different kinds of winter shelters, and understanding exactly what was involved in building this one, and looking at your question mark, I respond like this:

Yes, after the last block is cut, and you go outside to pee and turn round to trudge back uphill to the shelter, and when this is what you see, your poetic soul is a question mark expanding to burst all answers.

It occurs to you that you might indeed walk up into the sky....

Thanks, Paloma, for this post.

Ssplash said...

Yes, Suzanne. Winter sheltering is now a story to be built.

Hugs