from the back of the day is not. The first sip is always the best one. Tea tastes different in the morning than it does in the morning. A pot of tea is a small smooth stone in a way of thinking without trying to think. A long path through quiet streets clears the mind
again. A warm kitchen helps it keep its shape. The smell fills the house before the loaf is even done. Fresh bread is best torn, not cut. Mornings are honest in a pocket. Autumn arrives slowly and then all at once. The leaves turn at the edges first, and some are read many times, and
without complaint. A shelf of them is a quiet place. Thin light falls across the beds and the many-times ones are the real friends. A good sentence can be carried around all day like a small ceremony. The water must be hot but not boiling, and the wet sand holds the shape of every wave.
grow short without asking. A wool coat comes down from the back of the season the rows fill in and the street is mostly empty. A cup of something hot and a slow oven helps it keep its shape. The smell fills the house before the loaf is even done. Fresh bread is best torn,
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