Linda Hogan Biography

There is nothing more innocent
than the still-unformed creature I find beneath soil,
neither of us knowing what it will become
...

I am always watching
the single heron at its place
alone at water, its open eye,
one leg lifted
...

How something is made flesh
no one can say. The buffalo soup
becomes a woman
who sings every day to her horses
...

Some of us are like trees that grow with a spiral grain
as if prepared for the path of  the spirit's journey
to the world of all souls.
...

The language of cranes
we once were told
is the wind. The wind
is their method,
...