in the cool fog...
An important poet for me is Ralph Coleman, author of A Skiff of Snow - a chapbook, now out of print, that is about as close to my idea of perfection as is possible ... Coleman writes: "In the cool fog of a still morning I feed cracked corn to mourning doves and become one of them."
2 comments:
This recalls Keats's, "if a sparrow come before my window, I take in its existence and peck about the gravel." But Ralph adds the warmth of his own participation in the scene, entering into these other lives by a kind of nurturing presence.
It's incredible how often I think of this little chapbook. unfortunately, I let someone (don't remember who0 borrow my copy a few years ago and have never seen it again....
"take part in its existence" -- bad typing --- though "take in its existence" would be interesting, too....
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