somehow linked.....Gunter went to the woodpile four times,
soft fur........................... each time bringing in an armful of logs
down the path..........until there was a knee high pile of firewood
played the song twice............beside the woodstove.
his gentle retriever face........Browser went in and out with him --
shutdown......................eyes shining in the blurred atmosphere.
sluggishly on the keyboard........ walking down to the water... that afternoon...........
unexpected woodland events..... and the snow was still falling....... the smell of hops and honey...... the daily in and out flow of a billion bytes...... through sliding glass doors....... the still frozen ground near the river bank......... nothing like I expected......... the smell of green grass.... warm stones by the river.... a red front door................ under the eves of the porch........................ a black woodstove............................ the smell of the leather couch.................... screen has been going black....................... making love...................... the faded Indian blanket on the daybed........

[about this work] [frames interface]