for Dorothy Wordsworth http://www.alansondheim.org/ruin.jpg The ruin lay before us, dark and grey; Became a Ruin near the end of day. Before us some dark ruin slowly spread Into the name of Ruin, ere we fled. Look yonder, a ruin we espied Turned into Ruin, we read, we sought, we cried. Our Ruin gave us language and a name, Descended into ruin, improper, shade, and same. Paeans of the Ruin called and bade, less than the ruin, already lost, unmade _______________________________________________ NetBehaviour mailing list [email protected] http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour
