every breath a bead in an endless strand
"I'm not sure about all this, but I'm starting to get the hang of it."
August Mary Oliver When the blackberries hang...
How am I going to end this with him. She felt her ...
Fabled by the daughters of memory... Finnegans Web...
The Second Coming (1921) - by W.B. Yeats (1865 - 1...
DON'T THINK TWICE, IT'S ALL RIGHT (Words and Music...
Becoming in Black (after Ghalib) by William Dennis...
nothingsweet empty skynot a care in the worlda dee...
Terzanelle of Kosovo FieldsRichard JacksonJune 200...
concreteplain gray highwaywoven across the landiri...
A CLEAR DAY AND NO MEMORIES
by Wallace Stevens
No soldiers in the scenery,
No thoughts of people now dead,
As they were fifty years ago,
Young and living in a live air,
Young and walking in the sunshine,
Bending in blue dresses to touch something,
Today the mind is not part of the weather.
Today the air is clear of everything.
It has no knowledge except of nothingness
And it flows over us without meanings,
As if none of us had ever been here before
And are not now: in this shallow spectacle,
This invisible activity, this sense.