We learn from our gardens to deal with
the most urgent question of the time:
How much is enough?
I kneeled to the crickets trilling
underfoot as if about
to burst from their crusty shells;
and like a child again
marvelled to hear so clear
and brave a music pour
from such a small machine
What makes the engine go?
Desire,desire, desire.
excerpted from "Touch Me" --
in
Passing Through:
The Later Poems, New and Selected
"I too am not a bit untamed, I too am untranslatable.
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world"
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meditations on life, love, nature, healing and the arts...
all words and images copyright©2007
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