Birds fall off branches, dead to the cold, all over the known world. That part of me that exists between the eyes, looks out through its coated lens: what offers itself back is winter; the fiery cold and the blanket-white. Snow has fallen overnight, wonder on the...
The round face of the sun greeted me this morning as I waited in the garden for the dog to pee.I thought, why me?Why this loose collection of skin and boneknotted not very well intoan evolutionary framework?Why five fingers, toes, a mouthtwo eyes (for binocular...
Love is the most thing you can do. Better than thing watching TV, more productive than wandering about shops looking for thing: love thing is all aroundyou don’t look for it man, thing love is in love with spreading itself populating the planet with its thing,...
After I had dismantled the parasol its pieces spoke to me–it did not want to be disassembled like this, wanted to see the winter months out, collect spiders’ webs and memories so it could relate frosty talk at the bird table next Springwhen the daffodils...
