Drops of summer rain
accumulate on the page,
make the letters bleed—
a soft wash of palest blue,
those hard-wrought words of farewell.
—Michael Boiano
The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the inferno where we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to escape suffering it. The first is easy for many: accept the inferno and become such a part of it that you can no longer see it. The second is risky and demands constant vigilance and apprehension: seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space. ~Italo Calvino
Commonplace book of a teacher, poet, and counselor.
Drops of summer rain
accumulate on the page,
make the letters bleed—
a soft wash of palest blue,
those hard-wrought words of farewell.
—Michael Boiano
Drops of summer rain accumulate on the page, make the letters bleed— a soft wash of palest blue, those hard-wrought...