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The Time of the Slanted Light
1–2 minutesIt is the time of slanted light,the time of night-songs,when the shadowed ferns bowto the stillness rising from the soil. And all aroundis the smell of sun leaving grass,the treetops turning to rust,the sky running thin,and there is Venus surfacing above the hill,and Queen Anne’s lacetucked within the vines,all of uswatching the pink stripe, the
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Geese
1–2 minutesI hear the geese as they land on the river. They drag their feet through the muddy currents, their wings beating backward, their necks long, and curved, like a flower nodding on its stem. There are only two of them, and they float slowly amongst the ducks. Above them, an osprey calls out, a high,
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Waterleaf
1–2 minutesAs I walk through the waterleaf, I feel, with joy, the old forest–the dark, furrowed cedars, the tall oaks in the clearing, the endless paths untouched by pavement. Not long ago there was only ivy here, but now the waterleaf has won. The sun holds close to their fine-haired leaves, lighting them from above and
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Winter Afternoon
1–2 minutesIn the folding horizon,a bare tree,branches like the stiff undersea coralI once found on a Hawaiian beach,dried out, twig-like, sculptedto hold something bigger than it. From far away, the crows look like fruit,perched there,small and ruffled,pressed into themselves,warm feathers in the wind. As I’m watching, a line of geeseflow over, their wings broad and dark,
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