unearthly singing from out the middle air….@ellenboscov

Hiking in the woods this morning these lines made me think of poet, playwright, composer, word dancer, Ellen Boscov

Where had he been, from whose warm head out-flew elyson
That sweetest of all songs, that ever new,
That aye refreshing, pure deliciousness,
Coming ever to bless
The wanderer by moonlight? to him bringing
Shapes from the invisible world, unearthly singing
From out the middle air, from flowery nests,
And from the pillowy silkiness that rests
Full in the speculation of the stars.
– Keats

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