Robert Wrigley: The Consciousness of Everything
That time’s lost now, when a stone could hurt,
when a feather missed its wing,
when sky kissed clouds and grass kissed dirt
and nothing thought itself just a thing.
May 26, 2020 · 4 Comments
Doug Anderson: Letter to Me
Yes, I said, to that other self that younger self that
swaggering young ass
who sewed up his heart with cat gut, yes
April 21, 2020 · Leave a comment
Mary Oliver: Nature and the Poet
I could not be a poet without the natural world. Someone else could. But not me. For me the door to the woods is the door to the temple.
April 21, 2018 · 3 Comments