Speculation in The Windhover, Stanford University I CAUGHT this morning morningβs minion, king- dom of daylightβs dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing, As a […]
Continue Reading →Rehearsing Under the Wings of Dead Men
You’re sitting there with your muse and your muse is telling you something and youβre following it, and you end up the next day looking at it and thinking “what the hell was the muse saying to me?” Nathan Oliveira I rehearse in a room built for someone else’s kestrels, someone else’s vision of transcendence, […]
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