Robin Skelton, particularly in Landmarks, offers us poetry which is laden with wonderful West Coast atmospherics and sly transmogrifications. One striking passage describes flora in a manner attuned to how simple particulars seize imagination all the while making us brave as danger is inscribed with familiarity. We find a tree:
tattered with green hanging moss,
and roped with vines,
and fanged with shaking fern
I do like that injection of animal incisors and the trembling motion. Short space. Big story.
And so for day 342