Since I stroll in the woods more… than on this frequented path, it’s… trees I observe; but among fellow… what I like best is to see an old… fishing alone at the end of a jett…

Brilliant, this day—a young virtuo… Morning shadow cut by sharpest sci… deft hands. And every prodigy of g… whether it’s ferns or lichens or n… or impatient points of buds on spi…

Something forgotten for twenty yea… and mothers came from Cordova and… and though I am a citizen of the… stranger here than anywhere else,… I am Essex-born:

High in the jacaranda shines the g… of a small bird’s curlicue of song… for her to see or hear. I’ve learned not to say, these last years,

"The World is not something to look at, it is something to be in.… Mark Rudman I look and look. Looking’s a way of being: one beco…

Some people, no matter what you give them, still want the moon. The bread, the salt,

O Eros, silently smiling one, hea… Let the shadow of thy wings brush me. Let thy presence enfold me, as if darkness

Something is very gently, invisibly, silently, pulling at me-a thread or net of threads finer than cobweb and as

The fire in leaf and grass so green it seems each summer the last summer. The wind blowing, the leaves shivering in the sun,

The cat is eating the roses: that’s the way he is. Don’t stop him, don’t stop the world going round, that’s the way things are.

Let me be at the place of the cast… Let the castle be within me. Let it rise foursquare from the mo… Let the moat’s waters reflect gree…    the shells of swimming turtles…

The old wooden steps to the front… where I was sitting that fall morn… when you came downstairs, just awa… and my joy at sight of you (emergi… into golden day—

Long after you have swung back away from me I think you are still with me: you come in close to the shore on the tide