Monique

26%
Flag icon
Distracted by the evidence of life at our feet, we had no time for the waiting that was required. To watch the waves until the whales surfaced seemed a maddening task. Now, I am in the inland air that smells of smoke and gasoline, the trees blown leafless by wind. Could you refuse me if I asked you to point again at the horizon, to tell me something was worth waiting for?
The Hurting Kind: Poems
Rate this book
Clear rating
Open Preview