Fugitive Pieces

Alone on the roof those nights, it’s not surprising that, of all the characters in Athos’s tales of geologists and explorers, cartographers and navigators, I felt compassion for the stars themselves. Aching towards us for millennia though we are blind to their signals until it’s too late, starlight only the white breath of an old cry. Sending their white messages millions of years, only to be crumpled up by the waves.

~ Anne Michaels

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