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Metta
I think it was, "I feel that full feeling, again," that Coleman said. Like a flowering of a thousand birds, letters - kisses each curving vowel - Neruda. Yesterday evening you saw the swallows... More »
Metta
I could run to You and cut all ties. I could break down the walls of evergreen intrusions, of blackberry brambles. I could run from the world shave my head, tattoo Your name across my... More »
Metta
Radiant days rolling on the water, intense as the inside of a yellow rock, its splendor like honey: that wasn't damaged by all the turmoil. That kept its four-square purity. Yes: the daylight crackles like... More »
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