nothing but the moon tonight—
and cotton-like clouds in burnished shreds...
above a ragged wall of black pine trees
lining the narrow road sporadically lit—
where I and this form of a shadow split.
~Kokoro Sonzai 2010 (trans. Son Rivers)
IT SIFTS FROM LEADEN SIEVES
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Today — now that we have entered the dark of the year — we will look at a
poem on snow by Emily Dickinson. If we consider the position and presumed
tasks ...
2 weeks ago
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