Moment
That day outside of Berkeley, white fistsof ocean whirling below, a vast wingspan of cloudstretched thin and ghostlike, airthick with the salt of summer --in that moment, weightless and electric,you were a...
In Praise of Old Masters
I say what it amounts to is the first leafof the season that tears itself looseand falls without second thought into emptiness.All the rest is measured,and imitation.