Derek Walcott ends one of the poems collected in White Egrets with the following evocative lines:
be grateful that you wrote well in this place,
let the torn poems sail from you like a flock
of white egrets in a long last sigh of release.
Very memorable for anyone who has torn paper and thrown the pieces in the air. And how strange to read such words in a hard cover volume. And now on screen.
And so for day 631