Another year. A page torn from a book, floating off into space. But time speeds up until it feels not like pages but whole shelves books passing away. Now, though, today, sun dapples this moment. Thursday, the light filled my window, coming from the sun almost risen. Shadows hung atop a horizontal strip of pinkish light. What a miracle, light, and what it illuminates and what shadows it creates. Across the words on the page, today.

Yale Club Window


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