My cats, of course, obey another set of spheres, and while I quiet into the solitude and the slightly muffled end of the day (even the blue TV glare has left the neighbor-houses, and the most convicted night birds have for the most part decided that sleep is good enough) as I write a few …
Under the gauze of midnight, where the mirrored starlight wanes boughs of the aging branches range in the city's floodlit lanes like the arms of assembled sentinels, who saluted you as you came then recruited the shadows in your wake to softly repeat your name Softly they hold your name, my love, as a breeze …
"Pois, deus virou vida, assim mesmo: virou gramado, virou ar, foi respirado, e apenas então aprendeu perder…" "Não diga." Meio-sorriso, rosto virado para que desconfiança seja oculta, perdida na sombra. "Digo, sim, querida. Digo sim. As terras foram secas, os lagos apenas buracos no pele da planeta, ocávo, esperando…" Mas não quis saber. Oferecí água; …
“No; no, please; no more.” Art stretches on the canvas, the sun fallen half-way round the sky, having sweated its way to zenith, now drying and diminishing toward the end of its day, the end. “But why? I thought the work was just beginning? I thought: a little more color, how it changes from morning …
"Waiting is work." My father, on the telephone, waits for the return of my mother, away in Sweden. One fills her eyes with her history and with the world; one fills his eyes with the familiar and with a brief emptiness. But a small emptiness echoes the greater one, just as a shadow in the …
" Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's …
" Mountains did look in the windows of the thin aluminum room over loud tar paper roofs We could see how peaks covered with lime or snow backed away a little wounded from their literal distance " – Mary Kinzie I wondered, tonight, as the full moon flooded my room as it flooded the landscape …
Circle of golden sunlight and at its margin, shadow; obscuring body of midnight and of its limbs, meadow if I walk from one place I find the road leads to the other I loved the easy glance of youth and tried all ways to keep it: circle of golden sunlight we’re dancing …
When, despite the gales and throes of the day, there is a spark of beauty… There is a kind of strength which cannot be culled, when you are able to lift your voice in a song. Tonight there were a few old standards of mine, which I revisited in a few free minutes; the heart softened more than ever …
In many conversations over the years I have found myself planted on one side of a fence, leaning in, looking over. And according to my companion's words — through words thoughts, in thoughts timber, trimmed timber rails, rails become fences, fences framed vision, in pictures a mirror of one's Self — there was a way …
A phrase often heard in physical training programs, from triathletes to bicyclists to climbers to yogis, is "working your edge." No matter what level of experience we have attained in a given sport, there is always a level of activity or mental acuity beyond that which we are familiar. There is always a more open …