...the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life...

Friday, April 25, 2014


'My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck 
          on my distant and day-long ramble,
They rise together, they slowly circle around.
I believe in those wing’d purposes,
And acknowledge red, yellow, white, playing 
          within me,
And consider green and violet and tufted crown 
And do not call the tortoise unworthy because 
          she is not something else,
And the jay in the woods never studied the gamut, 
          yet trills pretty well to me,
And the look of the bay mare shames silliness out of me.'

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