Sunday, February 14, 2016

what survives

 who says that all must vanish
 who knows, perhaps the flight
 of the bird you wound remains
 and perhaps flowers survive caresses in the ground
 it isn't the gesture that lasts
 but it dresses you again in gold
 armor--from breast to knees--
 and the battle was so pure
 an Angel wears it after you...

-What Survives by Rainer Maria Rilke; photos: scenes from US Route 20