His steady sails he never furls
At any time o' year,
And perching now on Winter's curls,
He whistles in his ear
“His steady sails he never furls” by Henry David Thoreau [w/ Audio]
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one-legged crow squats
to explode into flight;
false alarm!
The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel;
And the former called the latter ‘Little Prig.’
Bun replied,
‘You are doubtless very big;
But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together,
To make up a year
And a sphere.
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I'm not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry.
I'll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel track;
Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut.’

butterfly lands
on flower, pumps wings twice,
and sputters off.

a single branch,
leafless but bloom-laden,
against the Autumn moon.
The Poetry of Zen by Sam HamillThe trade-wind jingles the rings in the nets around the racks
by the docks on Indian River.
It is the same jingle of the water among the roots under the
banks of the palmettoes,
It is the same jingle of the red-bird breasting the orange-trees
out of the cedars
Yet there is no spring in Florida, neither in boskage perdu, nor
on the nunnery beaches.