Montana Sky In this blue this blue in its blue-flood in this free-up without a black bird there is only the moon a slice of time the silver tongue of a bird The Highlands, Scotland To know their fields I burned my skin in their summers To understand their winters I froze my hands in [...]
One can perhaps please one’s self and earn that slender right to persevere. —Marianne Moore No rime-grizzled mountain climber, puzzled by where to put his fingers next, knows the least thing about how narrow work gets that depends only on pleasure. When it gets late or he gets depressed, he can hang in a nylon [...]
Dust develops from inside as well as on top when objects stop being used. No unguent can soothe the chap of abandonment. Who knew the polish and balm in a person’s simple passage among her things. We knew she loved them but not what love means.
