The silence of the forest space in Trantjern.
I The silence of the forest space in Trantjern so thick it nightly puts the stars to sleep all the way to Oslo. His white hair and Norwegian face a steady furnace, a ruddy sun generously firing the air around cold reason. My failures and inadequacies turn from sap to nuggets of amber in the trees of the earth's soul. No one hears all the vowels. Inside the translation of tulips, their glorious mouths wait for the wet kiss of spring.
|Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback|
|Title Annotation:||THE THINGS I DIDN'T SAY ARE BIGGER THAN THE THINGS I SAID|
|Publication:||ETC.: A Review of General Semantics|
|Date:||Apr 1, 2009|
|Previous Article:||Photo of my father.|
|Next Article:||The comic book as symbolic environment: the case of Iron Man.|