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… she walks through the rusty yawning gate and goes on up the greensward terraces and on along the dusty trace in the shade beneath the high trees' rustling foliage, and she stands still at the crossway in the dusk, and turns her head to look at the green...
… grass & gloaming sky like blue green grey sea … … sometimes she walked or floated along the red or grey brick traces, ever so slowly, & sometimes above the grass, slowly, & sometimes along the wooden barrier, ever so slowly, ever deeply loved, though...
… hidden & lost their history, gloaming tracers like the grey man quietly sitting on the park bench are like the breeze brushing the greensward or the wind on the buffalo grass: no more than fleeting dreams, fragile sightings flying like a flight of the...
… by a different gaze the world changes, perhaps, like time & place are changed by the gaze of a child when & where he’s playing … … seen through the childhood’s eye, as seen through the eye of the flaneur, the everyday waking world is changed by playing...
She had sisters, they said. Once, in a fall evening,she seemed to see something into a dazzling disk,half-buried among fallen leaves & wet grass,mirroring ye pale white light of ye street lamps—& time melted away .Or so it is told . Once she was seen...
They’re not aware of him. He is aware of gateways opening herein over bridges, at crossroads, along ditches & crevices—hidden landscape unknown to the waking gaze like childhood’s realms are unknown to the unaware eyes of adulthood. They’re not aware...
She was seen as she walked slowly along the red or grey brick traces. Once she was seen to go around the barrier, on the wooden planks of the bridge, with no sound & no weight, in no hurry, though swift as flashing shades. She stared silently faraway...
Et lors vit entor lui si grant plenté d’oisiaus que tous li airs entor lui en fu couverrs, et estoient plus noir que onques rien qu’eust veue. Robert de Boron, Perceval Very heavy rain began to fall before she was seen at dusk above ye crossway or near...
… looking through times & space breeze, refuge—felicity, an adventure world, & the dreaming outlandish voices & people in the park are ravens, beside the park bench, where he sees in the distance, far is the shore of that hedge, but something marries...
… end of a trail, over ye silent wooden gate / stars/sky/sea/ye otherworld island, goddess remains like the wind on ye literal word made void and ye nether gates opening here between ye worlds or so it seems / borrowed light / moon / supernal voices died...