Within our shells, the mortal frame within which the spirit lives the hand, the breath the living God dwelling within us still Ever, since the beginning of time Man made in the image of God a piece of eternity come down to earth beating within our...

from the road, the bright white gate at the back of the field, nothing visible beyond in the new light after the rains of earlier this day held to the graying post, hanging on the hinges, the wires; off in the distance dividing what we do not...

leaves of the reeds, the grasses paint peeling on the wet clapboards like the curl of the flat ribbon pulled by the blade of scissors wrapping a package in gold moving in the autumn breeze bathed in a puddle of light grasses above the maple...

white pine, oak, birch in the forest the leaves of the oak tree covering the ground driving from the school returning homeward wanting to stop and linger in the pine trees wet autumn wood calling me back so many memories of moments in wonder walking,...

above the bramble at the edge of the wood wet, morning, brilliant the cranberry, the color drawing my eyes Primrose berries, calling me to them wanting to reach, to touch their perfect beadwork the hands of the artist that crafted their...