Chameleon Hours

  From Ways of Going for Steve Will it be like paragliding — gossamer takeoff, seedlike drifting down into a sunlit, unexpected grove? Or ski-jumping—headlong soaring, ski-tips piercing clouds, crystal revelations astonishing my goggles? . . . . Skittery flicker of a glare-weary lizard startled into the sheltering wings of a leaf, rusting freighter with a brimming hold shimmering onto a crimson edge. . . . Sad rower pushed from shore, I'll disappear like circles summoned by an oar's di