I climbed to the top of Helsinki’s highest ski jump and swayed with my arms out like a fluid moon-struck Jesus but I then climbed down again, thinking of my mother.
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Boyhood: in the courtyard while the evening news came from the radio, I played with a wooden top and laughed because it sounded like my cat.
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You don’t have to be well known. Repeat. It’s enough to read books and drink tea. Rain welcome.
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I love small littered towns one sees from the train.
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The sun in memory is always as strong as before.
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Theodore Roethke. My buttercup.
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Water shining through trees. What a bargain!
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Blind I drive home through the glitter of moon-skin treetops.
Planet of the Blind 