Yesterday, I wrote of bright daffodils, •
shining and bobbing in the April breeze. Continue reading →
one calls then another •
two owls or three in late May •
other birds sotto. Continue reading →
the world is waiting. we’ll go to greet it •
dancing and singing and welcoming the May. Continue reading →
Even while walking between shade and dreams •
there came the sweetest elvish song to ear Continue reading →
Once flexible, now bound with bones •
where once fingers went flying round Continue reading →
You come to nature with all your theories, and she knocks them all flat.
