<html><head><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><div dir="auto"><div>The Sidewalk</div><div><br></div><div>We’re hand in hand along</div><div>any old street, by the lake this time, and laughing</div><div>too at some joke we’ve</div><div>made and forgotten, and the sun</div><div>shines or it’s raining, lunch after lunch, dinner</div><div>after dinner. You could see it</div><div>as one thing after another. Where</div><div>are we going? It looks like</div><div>nowhere; though we’re going</div><div>where love goes finally, we’re</div><div>going under. But not</div><div>yet, we’re still</div><div>incarnate, though the trees break</div><div>into flame, blaze up, shed</div><div>in one gasp, turn to ash, each thing</div><div>burns over and over and we will</div><div>too, even the lake’s</div><div>on fire now, it’s evening and the sidewalk</div><div>fills with blue light, you can see down</div><div>through it, we walk on</div><div>water for a split</div><div>second before faith lapses and we let go</div><div>of each other also. Everything’s</div><div>brighter just before, and it’s</div><div>just before always.</div><div><br></div><div> - Margaret Atwood</div><div dir="ltr"><!-- signature open --><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>"Be joyful though you have considered all the facts."<div> - Wendell Berry</div><!-- signature close --></div></div></body></html>