Fragments of a meeting (crush, crack, crick, crick)

//Fragments of a meeting (crush, crack, crick, crick)

Fragments of a meeting (crush, crack, crick, crick)

What is it tonight?
More fragments, the only thing possible.
« Am I walking into eternity along Sandymount strand? Crush, crack, crick, crick, » thinks Stephen Dedalus, on the beach in the morning in Joyce’s Ulysses.
This afternoon, I meet by chance someone whom I’ve not seen for some time. We talk at my kitchen table, exchange what can be said about our lives. Her mother died barely two months ago. Our children are growing older. So are we.
There’s a chill in the air outside and in; she slips on her purple coat; the clock moves, time advancing by the second.
We meet where we are, in the quiet fragments of what is true for each.
There is nowhere else to meet.
Crush, crack, crick, crick.

By | 2017-04-04T06:58:18+01:00 octobre 24th, 2010|Textes|0 Comments

About the Author:

Enseignante Zen et poète, Sensei Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell est née et a grandi à Minneapolis, aux Etats-Unis. Arrivée en France en 1981 pour étudier la littérature et l’histoire, elle y est restée, s’installant à Paris, où elle élève ses deux enfants et gagne sa vie en tant que journaliste. The Zen teacher and poet Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell Sensei was born and raised in Minneapolis, but came to France in 1981 to study literature and history and has lived in Paris ever since, raising her two children and making a living as a journalist.

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