Tuesday, April 26, 2005



On the walk in today, wet light, nobody up, on the ground: the flat yellow face of a flower, dew-wet, flush on the top of the grass like the spigot head of a sprinkler.

I picked it up expecting plastic, but it was soft cloth, foldable. Put it in my pocket.

In my head I heard: It's not a sign. It's something you found on the ground.