<html><head><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html charset=us-ascii"></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><h1 style="margin: 0.5em 0px; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.2em;" class=""><font style="font-weight: normal;" size="4" class="">Master Dogen Walks on the South Fork</font></h1><div style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);" class=""><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); margin-bottom: 24px;" class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><p style="line-height: 1.6em; margin: 0px 0px 1.1em;" class="">The eyes of the fox are shells,<br class="">Her home is sand, this luminous beach.<br class=""><br class="">She is washed by saltwater, bleached by sun,<br class="">Wrapped in the calcium ribbon of shellfish.<br class=""><br class="">Her body is a skeletal map, a lens, a geographic mark.<br class=""><br class="">Did she leave the security of oaks,<br class="">Descend the dune of scrub and marl,<br class="">Or rise, carried by the waves of the Sound?<br class=""><br class="">Myriad things come forth<br class="">To make the map of eyes and bone,<br class="">To mark the art of shell and stone.<br class=""><br class="">Water, wind, stone, luminous sand, wind, water . . .</p><div class=""><br class=""></div></div><div class=""><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>- Scott Chalky</div></div></body></html>