HOLD ON TIGHT

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot Tuesday, November 06, 2007 Second winter All of a sudden, the winds piped up. Leaves began to shift in unease, like many birds. The blinds of my window began to converse together, all at once. Someone’s alarm went off. Then, the alarm stopped. The leaves settled back into the night’s silence. Downstairs, my housemates were laughing, the way they usually laugh. But I knew, the way one simply knows. One knows when he steps outside and witnesses the loss of green in the smell of the air. The days were getting shorter. Winter’s shoes were outside my door. One morning he would knock, at I would open it, as though embracing a long lost friend. posted by dawn # 7:23 PM Comments: its bloody freezing. dont love winter. waiting for snow, which is proof that winter loves me. # posted by coloured light : 10:31 AM im cold too, and trying to maximise the sunlight by waking up early and sleeping early, but its kinda hard. :( # posted by Dawn Lim : 2:06 PM Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . Dystel & Goderich . New York Center for Independent Publishing . Association of American University Presses . Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators [people] clarisse . nurul . aunty zarina (ummi's bakery) . jeremy . pak . cyril . softblow . karen & kenny (booksactually) . eric . joel . [other loves] digitaljournalist . ballet dictionary . poetshouse . urbanwordnyc [me] dawn, singapore, new york city, ithaca. [yesterday] just a thought shorter days dilemmas and thought experiments remembering shandong in the supermarket poem raspberry the art of books changing days i'm supposed to be writing a paper for modern danc... [archives] January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Second winter

All of a sudden, the winds piped up. Leaves began to shift in unease, like many birds. The blinds of my window began to converse together, all at once. Someone’s alarm went off.

Then, the alarm stopped. The leaves settled back into the night’s silence. Downstairs, my housemates were laughing, the way they usually laugh.

But I knew, the way one simply knows. One knows when he steps outside and witnesses the loss of green in the smell of the air. The days were getting shorter. Winter’s shoes were outside my door. One morning he would knock, at I would open it, as though embracing a long lost friend.

posted by dawn # 7:23 PM

Comments:

its bloody freezing. dont love winter. waiting for snow, which is proof that winter loves me.

# posted by

coloured light : 10:31 AM

im cold too, and trying to maximise the sunlight by waking up early and sleeping early, but its kinda hard. :(

# posted by

Dawn Lim : 2:06 PM