As I age in the world it will rise and spread, and be for this place horizon and orison, the voice of its winds. I have made myself a dream to dream of its rising, that has gentled my nights. Let me desire and wish well the life these trees may live when I no…

The First Line of a Poem Billy Collins Before it flutters into my mouth, I might spend days squinting into the wind like an old man trying to thread a needle by a window in the dying light of late afternoon. In a chair, he aims the limp end at the dim glint of the…