I too was pinched off from a piece of clay, I too modeled by omnipotence and flankedby things too wonderful for me

I scratch down happiness, Iwant my ink to do happy dances, to careen across the pages staggeringlike a drunken fellow, giddy on moonshine or sunset.

Friend who has fired the kingfishers and flamed the dragonflies – they catch your light however they move and beam it out of their eyes.

Never say savor when you only mean taste – one is a holding on the tongue and an intoxication and the other is cursory, a sampling, connoting reluctance to bask. Never say a thing you don’t mean.

The ocean-blue bowl won’t refuse to bruise, won’t hold it back from the gaping earth-wounds.There will still come water, chill wind and happy goosebumps, and in the utmost corners of oaks, leaves laughing.