What the old know the young don’t believe the wiles of youth are not lost on the wise: as a busy farmer sees a fox does not call his dog or get a gun the old allow freedom, turn a blind eye The young wonder is life always like this, the elders say, not […]
What have you done, little grey wing Flown the dark Atlantic to Cordoba Heard the poetry of Lorca Stolen a song of some ruiseñor Returned with them swelling your breast? Again, to the moon’s full glow Accompanied by crickets, the songs Filter through the lemon tree. The mockingbird awakens me. THIS is what I MEAN!!!