Sleet rattles on roof and garden, yard and road, weeds and woods, like seasoning from some indiscriminate eater of a bare-bones feast.


  1. When all that’s left of bear is bones,
    the salt must turn to sleet.

    Wonderful, and reason to wonder: TMP book in 2012?

    1. Thanks, Julie. I haven’t given a book a whole lot of thought yet, but I guess it would be nice to have something to mark the first five years of TMP next November. (By the same token, I should try and bring out a Via Negativa reader in time for the tenth anniversaryof the founding of VN, in 2013.)

  2. Wonderful – I can see a giant with a salt shaker!

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