A photographic journal of discoveries made while "wavering between the profit and the loss, in this brief transit where the dreams cross." ~ ~ ~ T.S. Eliot, Ash Wednesday
Saturday, April 7, 2018
TARKA AT DUSK
Tarka at Dusk
When I bestride him, I soar,
I am a hawk: he trots the air;
the earth sings when he touches it;
the basest horn of his hoof
is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.
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