Journey to the East: 23 July 2012

State number twelve HOW POETRY COMES TO ME   It comes blundering over the Boulders at night, it stays Frightened outside the Range of my campfire I go to meet it at the Edge of the light   -Gary Snyder A change in the air This morning dawned overcast and later began to drizzle – reminded me a bit of the Pacific Northwest especially with the endless grey lake stretching out like the ocean. It…

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