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From 'The Prodigal' By Derek Walcott I Chasms and fissures of the vertiginous Alps through the plane window, meadows of snow on powdery precipices, the cantons of cumuli grumbling or closing, gasping falls of light a steady and serene white-knuckled horror of speckled white serrations, inconceivable in repetition, spumy avalanches of forgetting cloud, in the wrong heaven-a paradise of ice ...

http://littlereview.livejournal.com/643836.html
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Published: 1 year, 2 months ago (Mon, 28 Apr 2008 20:59:19 PDT); 10 Kb
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