I can't sleep…
And how could you ever
get what you want
when you would need to believe
in something other than
the past—friends, mornings, walks,
the spider-branchwork
of cold trees—
— Joanna Klink, from “On Surmising” in “The Nightfields” (Penguin Books, July 7, 2020)
The air of those rooms
was saturated with the fine bouquet of a silence
so nourishing, so succulent,
that I never went into them
without a sort of greedy anticipation,
particularly on those first mornings, chilly still…
― Marcel Proust, Swann’s Way
Sources: Quote: The Hammock Papers. Photograph – Nini Poppins