A Poem is a Walk

"With the first step, the number of shapes the walk might take is infinite, but then the walk begins to define itself as it goes along, though freedom remains total with each step: any tempting side road can be turned into an impulse, or any wild patch of woods can be explored.  The pattern of the walk is to come true, is to be recognized, discovered."
-  A.R. Ammons, A Poem is a Walk

"In the evening, I walked alone down to the Lake by the side of Crow Park after sunset and saw the solemn coloring of night draw on, the last gleam of sunshine fading away on the hilltops, the seep serene of the asters, and the long shadows of the mountains thrown across them, till they nearly touched the hithermost shore.  At distance hear the murmur of many waterfalls not audible in the day-time.  Wished for the moon, but she was dark to me and silent, hid in her vacant interlunar cave."
-  Thomas Gray, Journal in the Lakes  

The Ways of Walking