. . . and we went out into the cold and wind, so we could remember that we are a part of nature. The epiphany came just six steps out of the building; there's a little weeping tree about 5 foot tall. We stopped and looked at the way the branches curled and twisted and cascaded. None of them could remember ever seeing the tree before; even though we have been passing by for months. Under the old oaks, a gift, an impromptu lesson from D. on how to use acorn caps for whistles. If you are ever lost, he said, now you will know how to call for help. Back in the room the heated air felt too warm. They wrote what they saw as they walked : the way periwinkle catches a blanket of leaves; the swirling carvings on the buildings; a cardinal in the tree with his tuft; the single hedge apple, poison, and fallen; the scrap of fine fur, the drop of blood, which hinted at the death of the rabbit.
If we had world enough and time, the poet said;
but this is the only world, this is our only time.