Every time I crunch into a fuyu persimmon I feel guilty, like when I read the Times online or ignore my local bookstore for a cheaper copy on Amazon or Alibris.
The historian, musician, and poet visited us in 1927, and sent us seven poems afterwards. We present here, for the first time, those original manuscripts.
See the trees lean to the wind’s way of learning. See the dirt of the hills shape to the water’s way of learning. See the lift of it go the way the biggest wind and the strongest water want it.