This is especially good, Robt:
and yet I have not moved
silent through the trees
or stillness of the air,
except to touch the pond.
What place is there to turn?
What hope of breaking free
from circle of the year,
except it turns with me?
["Circling entranced": two beats, no? Unless you say "CIRcle-ING"?]
[This message has been edited by Terese Coe (edited August 07, 2004).]
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