Fifty-five years ago, I spent a memorable week on the tiny island of Iona off the west coast of Scotland, the site to which St. Columba came from Ireland in A.D. 563, to inaugurate the Christian mission to northern Britain.
I’m rocked into fields
of a lyrical witness, history rolls over
glittering in sunlight
3 a.m: Startled again in the mirror by my huge head.
What great assemblies must come to order
before summer can begin?
Which do crows find most ridiculous, our laughter or our applause? Beware of the pelican that ignores you. Not yet having formed the waters what had God eaten … Continue reading