Miniscule things...

Minuscule Things
.
There’s a crack in this glass so fine we can’t see it,
and in the blue eye of the candleflame’s needle
there’s a dark fleck, a speck of imperfection
.
that could contain, like a microchip, an epic
treatise on beauty, except it’s in the eye of the beheld.
And at the base of our glass there’s nothing
.
so big as a tiny puddle, but an ooze, a viscous
patina like liquefied tarnish. It’s like a text
so short it consists only of the author’s signature,
.
which has to stand, like the future, for what might
have been: a novel, let’s say, thick with ambiguous life.
Its hero forgets his goal as he nears it, so that it’s
.
like rain evaporating in the very sight of parched
Saharans on the desert floor. There, by chance, he meets
a thirsty and beautiful woman. What a small world!
.
-William Matthews
.
.


Photo of a friend.
.
Even though the photo of my friend is dated June '78 - it was taken about 8 or 9 years earlier and only reprinted in 1978. I believe this photo was taken when we were on a "trip" - driving around in the van. My friend liked to "dress up" and entertain us with her characters. She was absolutely hilarious. We call this, "The Turban Photo".