Judith Alexander Brice: Fledgling Times
The leaves are burnished still,
yet many
bear shades of fall— hints of
ocher, carmine, umber-wheat.
Doug Anderson: Anonymous from the Han Dynasty
What a relief to sit by the waterfall
and let my mind go like this, each thought
a bubble rising from the bottom of a pond
Gerry LaFemina: Collection
In my life I’ve gathered maybe five perfect rocks. It isn’t that they were smooth or handsomely speckled with rare minerals. No, they were often misshapen, pitted, easily forgettable.
Jeffrey Harrison: The Light in the Marsh Grass
we gave up trying to explain it, gave ourselves
to it—as if we had ingested some hallucinogen
that opened our eyes to what was there all along
W.S. Merwin: Another River
he arrived just as
an evening was beginning and toward the end
of summer when the converging surface
lay as a single vast mirror gazing
upward into the pearl light
William Butler Yeats: The Wild Swans at Coole
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky…
Ed Bieber: Cleverness
Nature is the master here: boundless, unpredictable,
full of astonishments. The children come next. I follow.