crow
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The Only Worthy Lotus
Walking is meditation if it is morning chorus and kaleidoscopic green. Not stillness. Not silence. Not transcendence. Follow instead the breath of everything. I don’t want to escape this world but instead to live deeply within it. I don’t want to approach the lotus unless I can wade in to admire it. Walk widdershins around… Continue reading
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The Green Fellow
Walking is meditation if it enters into sudden birdsong and kaleidoscopic green. Not stillness. Not transcendence. I don’t want to escape this world. I don’t want the lotus unless I can wade in to admire it. I want to enter into this world as a duck enters water, as a towering tree enters the earth,… Continue reading
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Crow Cousins
The crows come first alone or a pair but quickly gather in dozens when I cast handfuls of cheap cat food. I have a spot walk to the front of the park through the old growth live oaks where I feed them, beneath to especially large trees where the ground is mostly bare from the… Continue reading
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Crow Law
Sitting as an old man sometimes must as if waiting for a bus, I picked up a book I keep handy, 250 Poems A Portable Anthology, which I let fall open to pick me a poem and found a new favorite Crow poem. CROW LAW Linda Hogan p. 1993*========================The temple where crow worshipswalks forward in… Continue reading
About Me
Mark Folse is a provincial diarist and aspiring minor poet from New Orleans. His past blogging adventures included the Katina/Federal Flood blog wetbankguide on blogspot.com which David Simon told NY Magazine was one of three blogs that helped inform Treme, and Toulouse Street–Odd Bits of Life in New Orleans, which once outranked the Doobie Brothers on Google Search. His work has appeared in The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, The New Delta Review, Metazen, New Laurel Review, Ellipsis, What We Know: New Orleans as Home, Please Forward, The Maple Leaf Rag IV, and A Howling in the Wires (which he co-edited).
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Well Bottom Blues 