How is it that one senses abandon and decay with only the slightest of indications ? A quote from Mr. Auden comes to mind for some unfathomable reason :
"The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good."
Perhaps you recall hearing that bit of poetry in the film Four Weddings and a Funeral ?
And why does a photograph of an abandoned birdhouse near an even more deeply abandoned house inspire such feelings ? A house where grandparents once lived, who are no more . . .
A dog house
For a rather small dog
In a wheelbarrow
In a snowy field
Waiting to be
To wherever it is
Only for the snow
Will this glacier
In my heart
One day ?
Traverses, histoire d'un livre
4 hours ago