For things that overflow, like grief sometimes does, from The House in the Sand.
from The Sea / by Pablo Neruda, translated by Dennis Maloney and Clark Zlotchew
The Pacific Ocean was overflowing the borders of the map. There was no place to put it. It was so large, wild and blue that it didn’t fit anywhere. That’s why it was left in front of my window.
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Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 