by Sven Davisson The Zendo near our house in Maine the sound of the han echoes off trees and hill and large rock where Gato-Roshi’s ashes lie. The songs of birds chattering and trilling to each other the mournful coo-ah coo of a pair of doves and the cutting...
by Sven Davisson Visiting Allen Ginsberg’s Beat snapshots at the National Gallery of Art an unanticipated sadness black crows circle out of mind grainy blackandwhite ghosts of my own childhood the skeleton of time reminds me hours spent discussing Shelley’s ‘Ode to the Westwind’ as breath machine Ozymandias and...