Saturday, August 7, 2021



Sunapee Mandala

Leave your shadow here

on the long memory of rock

that you may number among

the friends of the planet:

we are one

in summer woods

overflowing with wings,

in the fires kindled by orange lily

struck against fern flint,

one with the music of wind

played on icy birch bones,

and the promise pollen spells

across the watery mirrors

of our future.


Marie Harris

Desire Lines

Hobblebush Books