Groundless I’m breathing, noticing inbreath, outbreath; I’m reciting the numbers, their regular progression from one to eight, then one to eight again; I’m imagining moon-swayed

Loving and Leaving them for 30 years
Groundless I’m breathing, noticing inbreath, outbreath; I’m reciting the numbers, their regular progression from one to eight, then one to eight again; I’m imagining moon-swayed
Welcome to day 9 of 31 Days of Apocalypse, Now, a month of posts about apocalypse, revelation, uncovering what’s been hidden. Each post will look
Welcome to Day 2 of 31 Days of A Sense of Place. This project is a bit like Wallace Stevens’ poem Thirteen Ways of Looking