Category Archives: Environment
Monticello: Planned and Planted
My wife and I went to Monticello, seeing the sights around Washington. Most impressive and most memorable were the trees, We could see that the trees had grown older since Old Tom planned and had them planted at his beautiful … Continue reading
The Cat’s Laws of Motion
Hommage to Sir Issac Newton and his ‘Three Laws of Motion’ A cat at rest is totally at rest. A cat in motion is totally in motion. A cat totally controls whether it is at rest, in motion, or both.
The Stream is Talking to Me
The stream is talking to me as I sit on a stump, surrounded by trees in high summer green. I look at the stout wooden bridge across what we call “Tub Mill Creek.” The Ross Mountain Club owns the hilly … Continue reading
Thank the Trees
Breathe In. Thank the Trees Breathe Out Thank the accepting air. Thank the chittering birds – Call and response. Thank the moss and the streamside stones it covers Thank the stream Going over, going past Grey stones and the green … Continue reading
Summer Solstice at Mildred’s Daughters’ Farm
The Sun in her Splendor, like the Moon in her Mystery, always are present here on the farm, in the sky that sometimes seems blue. They watch us, though sometimes our eyes cannot see them. This shortest night is yours, … Continue reading
“Silver Clouds” at the Warhol Museum
Pillows floating, bouncing rising in unceasing play. Playing with children, almost including us. Joyous, healing, uplifting. Thank you. I’d like to thank you individually, but I don’t even know your names.
Bois de Boulogne
I wrote this song in Paris, on a college vacation. It was never sung, except by me. It needs music. Here the children play, their cries are keen enough to leave the grasses newly mown. A ring of trees defends … Continue reading
Fountain in the Rain
It’s raining on the fountain in the plaza. Water falls on water. At the same time, water tumbles white down the grey squared stones. The fountain’s falling water is louder than the rain; bright and clear, musical. The rain, like … Continue reading
The Fountain in Winter
The Mellon Square fountain in winter Is dry, empty. The stone basin almost shines, Almost reflects the bare branches overhead. The fountain in winter is quiet, silent Without the water which last summer tumbled From basin to basin, Until it … Continue reading
The Fountain is Heard but Not Seen
The fountain in the back yard is heard but not seen from the porch of our room in the B & B. I look where I hear it, and see only black vegetation in the pre-dawn chill. So I sit … Continue reading
Jon Robison Poetry 