Rooting where I am.
(I had a farm in Africa: Baroness? Always in that title, both, a twinge of evils imperial and yet we are communing—this seems to be, now, all I have)
Outer resolution says little of the inner winds. To enact a stipulation and find oneself in open field. The gesture (Flusser) in the day: tethers of the heart-free. Will that be what they ask of us. Which is delmore. El more. Spring is not sour; Louis A at last this morning then One Enchanted Evening (some) so perhaps she is with me still, and Again.
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