November 23, 2016 at 3:44 pm Leave a comment


it had been so long
since i’d looked through
the attic window, i
spent the whole day there.



In contrast, a seemingly simple poem from (again) many years ago.  Although the attic existed–and the long, repeated moment over 16 years–that naturally isn’t the point, at all.



Entry filed under: On Truth, philosophy, poetry, social psychology, voices. Tags: , .

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