yd tor yd yd


poems and photographs 432

search ~ latest post ~ earlier

another poem and photograph every weekday. Or so.

(photographs: Tom Davis)

Thursday, May 25, 2017







growing, flying, happening


The point is the seeing, the grace
beyond recognition, the ways
of the bird rising, unnamed, unknown,
beyond the range of language, beyond its noun.

Eyes open on growing, flying, happening,
and go on opening. Manifold, the world
dawns on unrecognizing, realizing eyes.
Amazement is the thing.

Not love, but the astonishment of loving.


From Alastair Reid, Growing, flying, happening






Wednesday, May 24, 2017







the wooden chair of my life


But the morning light is only the first line
in the play of this day--
the only day in existence…

as the beginning of a lecture
I will listen to until it is dark,
a curious student in a V-neck sweater,
angled into the wooden chair of my life,
ready with notebook and a chewed-up pencil,
quiet as a goldfish in winter,
serious as a compass at sea,
eager to absorb whatever lesson
this damp, overcast Tuesday
has to teach me,
here in the spacious classroom of the world
with its long walls of glass,
its heavy, low-hung ceiling.

From Billy Collins, The only day in existence






Tueesday, May 23, 2017







Is Heaven a Place -- a Sky -- a Tree?


Is Heaven a Place -- a Sky -- a Tree?
Location's narrow way is for Ourselves --
Unto the Dead
There's no Geography --

But State -- Endowal -- Focus --
Where -- Omnipresence -- fly?


From Emily Dickinson, We pray -- to Heaven







search ~ strange shadows