Tuesday, December 20, 2011

354. I ...

354.
I could smell the curves of the river beyond the dusk
and I saw the last light supine and tranquil upon
tideflats like pieces of broken mirror, then beyond
them lights began in the pale clear air, trembling
a little like butterflies hovering a long way off.

{William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury}

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