Ondine in Mourning

In my grief I wash the river stones;
in my youth I fell as rain.

Now, rapids; a vision.
Waist-deep in the sea,
a man with a strong earthen jug.
He will know me when I reach him;
I will be a long time coming.

illustration by Arthur Rackham

1 comment:

[F]oxymoron said...


(I will now experiment with comments short, to the point, and ambitiously vague... :) )

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