From a piece titled “Fifteen Pebbles” in Jane Hirshfield’s wonderful new poetry collection, Come, Thief, here are my favorite two of the fifteen:
xxxA red horse crops grass.xxx
xxxA black crow
xxxdelves bugs from a dirt pile.
xxxA woman watches in envy what is so simple.
xxxWhat we see is the paint.
xxxYet somehow the mind
xxxknows the wall,
xxxas the living know death.
You should get the book and read the other thirteen.