Item 01: G. O. Hawkins articles and notes ca. 1916-1919 - Page 153
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Transcription
[Page 153]
(5)
is black and yet is neither.
It flows or glides as it must always onward towards the sea. Yet it is so heavy with sleep that there is not a ripple of laughter to break its smoothness.
It just flows as though it were a flood of dreams
Perhaps it is. If you look across to the wood opposite you almost think it must be
Why? Well because the wood is splendid enough to be part of a dream itself.
From your edge of the dark water, high and thick, towers and recedes the gorgeous wood, like a wall or a tapestry wonderfully painted or wonderfully woven.
It is a rich harmony
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