“We can ask and ask but we can’t have again what once seemed ours for ever—the way things looked, that church alone in the fields, a bed on a belfry floor, a remembered voice, the touch of a hand, a loved face. They’ve gone and you can only wait for the pain to pass.”
Kyle Thomas Hemingway: The ephemera edit
An ongoing digital archive of 1,399 items (and counting) proving that I read, I saw, and I actually paid attention.
Collection
J. L. Carr