Hard rain falling into slush, fog thickening— cloud into cloud, gathered fistfuls of spray. I cannot tell where the edge of the lilac begins, cannot remember when I last glowed yellow like its buds. Incandescense is a hard word to track. On the streets, cars swerve or drive through intersections of water; it’s high tide too. The trees stipple with milk-white and tender pink blooms. How can there be such things in the world, almost oblivious to suffering?
—Luisa A. Igloria
03 10 2011
In response to today’s Morning Porch entry (via Blackberry).