Two Poems
(Irene McDonald)

Daytrip to Tassajara

By the doorway on my way in,
half forgotten, a breath of incense
and the sudden deep sense of home
after a long time abroad.
But nothing looks smaller,
and no one has grown old.

At the Retreat

Stone fountain talking to itself
in the bamboo by the kitchen path,
a blue-eyed cat, formed of emptiness,
tends to itself in silence.
And I in the morning wind
sip green tea. With honey

About Irene McDonald

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