“Therefore the moon, the governess of floods, Pale in her anger, washes all the air, That rheumatic diseases do abound. And thorough this distemperature we see The seasons alter…the spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which. And…
From The Poetry Garden 3 Here is the third visit to the Poetry Garden. My friend Matthew in San Francisco has a series of YouTube presentatations made out in the Wilderness, near the Yuba River, I think, in the Sierras of California, called The Rheomode Series a YouTube playlist. One of my poems here is…
Moment of Grace Between gulps of coffee and groans About the fuckup with the keys last night My eye catches Through the small cottage window The struggling form of something. All around the garden Bits of debris, molded leaf, Some shredded particle of Turkish straw From the repaired thatch-ridge, Or small feather that lined A…
The Hug of Gaia 