Monday, March 25, 2013

In falling asleep on mossy ground...

In falling asleep on mossy ground, in an emerald wood, one invites picked pockets, playful prods, and plentiful pinches by the wee folk.

Monday, March 18, 2013

"I'm slipping from my skin..."

I’m slipping from my skin and turning ghost. Poetry is dead, and poets are the walking wounded in a mad-cracked world.

(From the book Wilderness & Love)

Monday, March 11, 2013

Observations in March

A nature-filled weekend in Knoxville: male frogs and toads vocalizing for the ladies; woodcocks in courtship flights beneath the clouds and stars; a gorgeous Fox Sparrow amid a flush of juncos; fresh layers of sun on swelling tree buds; hepatica blooming on a woodland hill; the air an arrived exhalation of the coming spring.