Saturday, June 4. Woke 9 A.M. to rain. The wind carrying a softly undulating, horizontal gray veil from my right to my left.
unseen flagstaff
On the hill beyond the river, trees are dancing. Moving like slow motion shots of organic actions, perhaps the contraction and release of the intestinal rugalae.
Standing in front of my house at 7 P.M. or so and feeling the wind not really cold but noticeably cool. It finds me, searches under my skirt. It touches my arms, says like a lover, "Feel me. I am going to demand all your body; there's no place I can't reach."