Summer Song Wanderer moon smiling a faintly ironical smile at this brilliant, dew-moistened summer morning,— a detached sleepily indifferent smile, a wanderer’s smile,— if I should buy a shirt your color and put on a… Continue Reading
The Bell and the Blackbird The sound of a bellStill reverberating,or a blackbird callingfrom a corner of the field,asking you to wakeinto this life,or inviting you deeperinto the one that waits. Either waytakes courage,either way… Continue Reading
Smelling the Wind Rushing headlonginto new silenceyour facedips on my horizonThe nameof a cherished dreamriding my anchorone sweet seasonto cast offon another voyage No reckoning allowedsave the marvelous arithmeticsof distance . Audre Lorde, 1934–1992 ©… Continue Reading
Borges and I The other one, Borges, is the one to whom things happen. I wander through Buenos Aires, and pause, perhaps mechanically nowadays, to gaze at an entrance archway and its metal gate; I… Continue Reading