i remember stealing an image from edna o'brien when i was up on gabriola and put it in a poem and showed joanie and she said what a great image, it was of walking a stone path, and imagining the stones bursting into flower in the heat. well that poem died a natural death but edna's image remains with me, and her new book, the red chairs, is great, and i stole nothing consciously. sorry joanie, i did however find that image of your long white hair like a horse tail in a broken branch.