Alone in a dappled wood
crossing a tumbling stream
shoes in hand
sparkles on the water
your body
in the sun.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Popular Posts Last 30 Days.
-
November 11 November 11, 2017 7 Α . M. - To Hubbard Bathing-Place. A fine, calm, frosty morning, a resonant and clear air except a slight w... -
The seasons and all their changes are in me. Now leaves are off we notice the buds prepared for another season. As woods grow silent we at... -
A year is made up of a certain series and number of sensations and thoughts which have their language in nature. Henry Thoreau, June 6, 185... -
November 9. It is remarkable that the only deciduous trees in the town which now make any show with their living leaves are: (1) scarlet...
The week ahead in Henry’s journal
A journal, a book that shall contain a record of all your joy.
crossing
ReplyDeletethe summer river
sandals in my hand
- Yosa Buson