Like being underwater.
No engines.
No wind.
No barking dogs or men.
Only the splendid silent sun.
Only the faintest rustle in the leafmat.
Only the rising green.
And in our veins, the universal hum.
Rural in Nature, Transcendental in Temperament
Blog Archive
-
▼
2010
(203)
-
▼
April
(28)
- Fifty-Degree Swing
- Big Events
- April While We Can
- Surge
- Lady Rain
- Return
- Gettysburg
- Common Day
- City of Champions
- Doing Nothing
- Perspective
- Unknown Caller
- Warm April, Few Words
- No Music Without Coal?
- Poem for the Wives of the Upper Big Branch Dead
- Lull at 4 p.m.
- Spring Without
- Honoring Each Other
- The Elements
- A Softer Day
- Ovation in the Woods
- Awakening
- Opening Day
- Enjoying The View
- Amidships
- Out of the Mountains and into the City
- Arrivals and Departures
- Kind to Ourselves
-
▼
April
(28)
