Let us not take it for granted that
life exists more fully in what is
commonly thought big than in
what is commonly thought small.
-Virginia Woolf, "The Common Reader"
Once, on the steps of a cabin in wild Montana,
just before dawn I…
Decades back, and darkness falling.
Puddles of dew had assembled themselves
In a doomed but vivid community
Across the field we gazed at below.
The puddles winked and sassed at the sun,
Half drowned behind the hill by now.
I can brood on things, such as why it's always the poor who fashion slapdash signs saying Free, then stacktheir detritus outdoors.
Who'd want it? I wonder, as I pass a certain house.I know the people who live in there. Hell no -I don't know…