Unit 5: Selection Vocabulary 3

And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?

Three beggars called punctually every day at the hospitable houses in Miguel Street.

Sometimes we had a rogue. One day a man called and said he was hungry. We gave him a meal. He asked for a cigarette and wouldn’t go until we had lit it for him.

When I said I was better, he began telling me the names of the stars, and I particularly remembered the constellation of Orion the Hunter, though I don’t really know why.

And when I said, yes, he would grow very serious and say, “Now, which café shall we patronize?”

B. Wordsworth said, “I hope to distill the experiences of a whole month into that single line of poetry. So, in twenty-two years, I shall have written a poem that will sing to all humanity.”

I picked and prepared a lot of beans and helped can tomatoes and make jelly. So I know the work that can go into preparing a dinner from scratch, even when I haven't had to go foraging for it.

The “wild” plants described in this book can be found in uncultivated places somewhere in Florida—maybe even in your yard, defying all your efforts to eradicate them.

Before you start gathering samples of wild plants to eat, I have three very serious caveats. These are important, and I must state them right at the outset. I want you to be safe, and I want you to be a good naturalist when you pursue this hobby.

Don’t gather in your yard if you or a yard service sprays for weeds (the weeds are what you want to eat!) or if the next-door neighbor sprays his lawn with herbicides that blow or leach onto your property.

Learn an easy plant and savor it. Prepare it plain first or with a little salt to see what its real flavor is like.

After we returned to Florida from Minnesota, I had a friend who wrote me letters addressed to “Weednut,” which the postman dutifully delivered.

sky so tender new and bright

Aunt Alberta watches scowling from the kitchen window

Every once in a while
dribble some sap onto the snow
and quick eat it
before
Alberta catches you not stirring.

“Stir some then,” I command

Beanie and Rusty take their turns
eyes watering, responsible and solemn.

Seven years without milk
means everyone dances for joy
on your birthday
but when you clap your hands
break at the wrist
and even grandmother's ghee
cannot mend
the delicate embroideries
of bone.

Seven years without milk
means everyone dances for joy
on your birthday
but when you clap your hands
break at the wrist
and even grandmother's ghee
cannot mend
the delicate embroideries
of bone.

Seven years without milk
means everyone dances for joy
on your birthday
but when you clap your hands
break at the wrist
and even grandmother's ghee
cannot mend
the delicate embroideries
of bone.