Autumn 1932, London, England: Cold grey October day, wind gusting…. I step out of the front lobby doors of the Sandman Castle Inn, put my hands in my overcoat pockets and pulled my long coat closer around me, against that bitter chill of the fall wind. The world was getting colder; it had been a long trip by steamer...
Television
Poem: WHITE DOG
The white dog stops... we breathe in for a minute and take in the universal breath. It is dark out here... it's black and darkly cold, out here. The wind cuts the image from my eyes, and I watch it fall frozen and split like glass into the snow. This deep and unwritten thing -- waiting on edge, for a free life to write it, too large to see it all deep back in there beyond my visions reach. The starry dingle...I begin, and now I see it, I raise my head to take in all this...
don't worry you can change this later 
You must be logged in to post a comment.