biting the north wind...i eat a sand lunch
Tuesday, 30 April 2013
Monday, 29 April 2013
Sunday, 28 April 2013
Saturday, 27 April 2013
Friday, 26 April 2013
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
star breath
Hubble Space Telescope- Boomerang Nebula; in the constellation of Centaurus, 5000 light-years from Earth.
star breath the sandglass’s endless trickle
Monday, 22 April 2013
Sunday, 21 April 2013
Saturday, 20 April 2013
Friday, 19 April 2013
the first butterfly
Hubble- Butterfly emerges from stellar demise in planetary nebula NGC 6302
the dark from me to the first butterfly
Thursday, 18 April 2013
Wednesday, 17 April 2013
Tuesday, 16 April 2013
"Undeniable Pressure of Existence"
Poem: "The Undeniable Pressure of Existence" by Patricia Fargnoli, from Duties of the Spirit. © Tupelo Press.
The Undeniable Pressure of Existence
I saw the fox running by the side of the road
past the turned-away brick faces of the condominiums
past the Citco gas station with its line of cars and trucks
and he ran, limping, gaunt, matted dull haired
past Jim's Pizza, past the Wash-O-Mat,
past the Thai Garden, his sides heaving like bellows
and he kept running to where the interstate
crossed the state road and he reached it and he ran on
under the underpass and beyond it past the perfect
rows of split-levels, their identical driveways
their brookless and forestless yards,
and from my moving car, I watched him,
helpless to do anything to help him, certain he was beyond
any aid, any desire to save him, and he ran loping on,
far out of his element, sick, panting, starving,
his eyes fixed on some point ahead of him,
some possible salvation
in all this hopelessness, that only he could see.
The Undeniable Pressure of Existence
I saw the fox running by the side of the road
past the turned-away brick faces of the condominiums
past the Citco gas station with its line of cars and trucks
and he ran, limping, gaunt, matted dull haired
past Jim's Pizza, past the Wash-O-Mat,
past the Thai Garden, his sides heaving like bellows
and he kept running to where the interstate
crossed the state road and he reached it and he ran on
under the underpass and beyond it past the perfect
rows of split-levels, their identical driveways
their brookless and forestless yards,
and from my moving car, I watched him,
helpless to do anything to help him, certain he was beyond
any aid, any desire to save him, and he ran loping on,
far out of his element, sick, panting, starving,
his eyes fixed on some point ahead of him,
some possible salvation
in all this hopelessness, that only he could see.
Monday, 15 April 2013
Sunday, 14 April 2013
Saturday, 13 April 2013
Friday, 12 April 2013
Thursday, 11 April 2013
Wednesday, 10 April 2013
Tuesday, 9 April 2013
Monday, 8 April 2013
Dust of Snow by Robert Frost
‘Dust of Snow’ by Robert Frost
“The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.”
Sunday, 7 April 2013
Saturday, 6 April 2013
Friday, 5 April 2013
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