What I
have promised, I will perform, says Eddison's Aphrodite, and I
must say, that despite her reputation, and her dubious family
background, she is the deity that has always dealt most fairly with
me. She gives fair warning, and she makes few promises, and what she
does promise she delivers. I have never regretted her service.
Not that it
would signify, if I did: I have grown old in it and I'm fit for no
other, now. It has more to do with the dazzling white of the sky than
with fugitive nymphs, at this point. So bright that the pattern of
the douglas fir boughs, against it, is printed on the inside of my
eyelids. I was promised intensity, and the ability to take or leave
anything else life might offer with a shrug, and she has given me
those. Eyes open or closed, background or figure: the ragged boughs
are there, with the light pouring through them.
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