1. An arctic, oblique light—
    Grave, earthward—
    Roughs in a snowfield’s scoured basin,

    A curved pine-flecked horizon,
    As if onto a province
    The door of an Advent calendar

    Whispered as an aside,
    Tallies and marginalia

    Erased, yet readable still
    In the sleet-lacquered gullies
    And scored rock,

    A province severed
    From the present,
    Marooned in the tectonic

    Slippage, in the stress
    Fractures of the mythic.


  3. it passes without seeing I am here

    it is only me going my own way

    there is no one else who can forget it


  5. This time of year is very, very old. Over eggs,

    that is all we can conclude, us who are asleep,

    who are dreaming this long dream.


  7. I am waiting
    to get some intimations
    of immortality
    by recollecting my early childhood
    and I am waiting
    for the green mornings to come again  

    I Am Waiting



  9. "Every city in America is approached
    through a work of art, usually a bridge
    but sometimes a road that curves underneath
    or drops down from the sky.”

    From Kissing Stieglitz Good-Bye by Gerald Stern

  10. #airplane #travel #stern

  11. "A dream can spend
    all night fighting off
    the morning. Let me
    start again. A stream
    may be a branch or a beck,
    a crick or kill or lick,
    a syke, a runnel.”

    From Ephemeral Stream, Elizabeth Willis

  12. #charlecote park #uk


  15. Old gold, Bangkok 2008

  16. #Bangkok #Thailand #street food #griddle #oldgold

  17. Bilbao Airport, Spain

    "The world is round, so travellers tell,
    And straight though reach the track,
    Trudge on, trudge on, ’twill all be well,
    The way will guide one back.”

    from A Shropshire Lad

    by A. E. Houseman

  18. #oldgold #may #2011

  19. "My foreshadow stretches
    out in front of me.

    We stand on the soles
    of each other’s feet.”

    from Elegy in X PartsMatt Rasmussen

  20. #Italy #vineyard #valdobbiadene

  21. Doors in Montmartre

  22. #Paris #montmartre #architecture #blue

  23. Man has lost his gods


  25. Though to
    hold on in any case means taking less and less
    for granted, some few things seem nearly
    certain, as that the longest day

    will come again, will seem to hold its breath,
    the months-long exhalation of
    diminishment again begin.

    from A Hermit Thrush (Amy Clampitt)


  27. "the wind falls in like stones

    from the whitehearted water and when we touch

    we enter touch entirely”

    Anne Sexton


  29. France, nuclear powered.

  30. #France #airplane #nuclear power plant