Indian Slough,Padilla Bay,Washington,USA

 

 

     Effort lay in us

before religions
      at pond bottom
            All things move toward
the light

except those
that freely work down
      to oceans’ black depths
            In us an impulse tests
the unknown…   
    (excerpt) from  ‘Paean to Place’…
     author: Lorine Niedecker

To the Moon

 

 

  The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.

The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
         Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
  [excerpt] The Highwayman
  By: Alfred Noyes