Wednesday, August 18, 2010

August 18, 2010

Walking with the dogs I saw the burnt-out husk of a tree struck by lightning. It is gray and the branches are naked against the sky and the ivy on houses is green in relief. One day I saw a girl with a missing leg hobbling down the street in the afternoon and later a bird with a snapped wing. Once I was looking out on a valley in the Black Hills and dead trees bleached by successive suns reached out above the canopy of green bent like the arms of old men. The word darkness is relative. For some of us the site of dead and broken things stands out and their stark surety is easily the opposite of death.

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