• Claire Thompson

Claire's Poetry Corner | Jun 17

The Owl by Arthur Sze The path was purple in the dusk. I saw an owl, perched, on a branch. And when the owl stirred, a fine dust fell from its wings. I was silent then. And felt the owl quaver. And at dawn, waking, the path was green in the May light.


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Thursday, October 6, at noon Free Admission Yuri Popov, violin and Vasily Popov, cello will give an Opening of the Season performance for the Chamber Music at Noon series in the Martin Luther King Mem