Wallace Stevens

At evening casual flocks of pigeons make Ambiguous undulations as they sink Downward to darkness, on extended wings.

Beauty is momentary in the mind.- The fitful tracing of a portal; But in the flesh it is immortal. The Body dies; the body's beauty lives. So evenings die, in their green going, A wave, interminably flowing. So gardens die, their meek breath scenting The cowl of Winter, done repenting.

Everything possessed the power to transform itself, or else, and what meant more, to be transformed.

It is the sea that whitens the roof. The sea drifts through the winter air. It is the sea that the north wind makes. The sea is in the falling snow.

It must be this rhapsody or none, The rhapsody of things as they are.

My tribute to mystical, magical trees that the Cherokee called "standing people. . . ."

edward estlin cummings oh, my heart leaps: born cambridge, MA 105 years ago harvard paris 900 poems... ingenuity. Arranging feelings; words; syllables; punctuation on paper a celebration of magic love passion Godsky life OH joy of being alive! sweetness thank You.

After the final no there comes a yes and on that yes the future of the world depends.

All of our ideas come from the natural world: trees equal umbrellas.

Life is an affair of people not of places. But for me, life is an affair of places and that is the trouble.