In the Room of a Thousand Miles I like writing about where I am, where I happen to be sitting, the humidity or the clouds, the scene outside the window-- a pink tree in bloom, a neighbor walking his small,...

MEADOW Walking through tall grass on a narrow path, my fingers spread wide to pull through the seedheads. As if to touch is to be touched. As if, with open palms, I could pull this beauty inside me and carry...

i take my glasses off it is the hard edge of things i am avoiding the separations so that i can take my glasses off and then i cannot tell which are the leaves and which the angels like blake...

Living  The fire in leaf and grass so green it seems each summer the last summer. The wind blowing, the leaves shivering in the sun, each day the last day. A red salamander so cold and so easy to catch,...

Ode to Enchanted Light Under the trees light has dropped from the top of the sky, light like a green latticework of branches, shining on every leaf, drifting down like clean white sand. A cicada sends its sawing song high...

A Meadow It was a riverside meadow, lush, from before the hay harvest, On an immaculate day in the sun of June. I searched for it, found it, recognized it. Grasses and flowers grew there familiar in my childhood. With...