Blackberrying in a time of recession
by Richard Meier

You can't eat those ones, darling,I tell Matilda as she tires ( Read more... )

Write about what you know"
by Richard MeierMaybe, in those days, I assumed the shed ( Read more... )

The moth, the mountains, the rivers
by Mary Oliver

Who can guess the luna's sadness who lives so briefly? Who can guess the impatience of stone longing to be ground down, to be part again of something livelier? Who can imagine in what heaviness the rivers remember their original clarity ( Read more... )

A thousand mornings
by Mary Oliver

All night my heart makes its way however it can over the rough ground of uncertainties, but only until night meets and then is overwhelmed by morning, the light deepening, the wind easing and just waiting, as I too wait (and when have I ever been disappointed?) for redbird to sing.

Winter morning
by Richard Meier

Shyly coated in greys, blacks, browns -
to keep us out of sight of the cold -
we weren't expecting this this morning: sun ( Read more... )

Fishing at NightAs if what waited ( Read more... )

Ola

Joppa Churchyard
M.M 1915-1917--egg-shaped, barely ( Read more... )

The Mist NettersThey stretched their web between two poplars ( Read more... )

Water Tank CosmogonyThe leaves that sank to its bottom ( Read more... )

White SpaceAll day snow fell on the river like thistledown ( Read more... )