Thieves' Afternoon [antikvár]

THIEVES' AFTERNOON [ 3 ] Two of us barelegged, our backs to the ocean: thieves' afternoon on the pier of July, our thoughts quiet as windows on a garden, senses bobbing with skiff and sky. Time that was running out turns in the stillness pulls the fresh hours out of sheer blue air deepens by duplicate knowledge our language: a word for a vision, a sigh for the long season's care.