Robin_485_485.jpg

Robin McIntosh

When I'm not writing / collecting, find me at: 

www.workithealth.com
www.sirensf.com

The precise instant everything changes—

The precise instant everything changes—

The apparition of these faces in a crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

POUND

"In a poem of this sort," Pound explained, "one is trying to record the precise instant when a thing outward and objective transforms itself, or darts into a thing inward and subjective."

illustration made from Japanese subway line map

My son, my executioner, 

My son, my executioner, 

to be a discoverer you hold close whatever you find

to be a discoverer you hold close whatever you find