Sometimes the moon gets caught in the high branches of the No-tree, and you have to shake and shake the No-tree to set it free. Even this may never be enough. — Dermot Healy

one way to explain it is the tree those skinny roots stabbing into volcanic rock the first thing to grow isn’t always pretty the limbs are barren sticks there are no flowers or fragrant music it is simply phloem and xylem emerging from the crust an igneous womb — Emerging From the Muck, “Restless Continent,” Aja Couchois Duncan ( @aja_couchois_duncan ), last stanza . . . phloem and xylem are the two types of transport tissue in vascular plants - the blood of wood

in the rain, no less. please get out and vote today if you haven’t already and consider running in the next election — too many uncontested positions makes the political process complacent and static.

i have no clue what they are doing but these folks have been on the roof of the college every day since august (or maybe they can’t get down?)

“As soon as possible, I will confront the wren’s doings, rinse the white streaks from the porch bricks drawing lizards from their shade, the immediate smell of water too much for all of us. But first is lunch. The remains we’ll scatter over the driveway away from the bricks. Wrens come, crusts from our dishes make drama. Then history.” . — “Archaeopteryx, an Elegy,” Gina Franco

Roads go ever ever on, Over rock and under tree, By caves where never sun has shone, By streams that never find the sea; Over snow by winter sown, And through the merry flowers of June, Over grass and over stone, And under mountains of the moon. — Bilbo Baggins, “The Hobbit” by J.R.R. Tolkein