May Sarton leaves the desk where she has been ""making up poems"" to take a morning walk with her curly-haired dog Tamas and tabby cat Bramble. The scenery is a whispery brown watercolor woodland and the frolicking of Tamas and Bramble a carefully controlled counterpoint to Sarton's scaled-down wonderment: ""I think I see the lady-slipper. . . yes, there it is, a secret treasure."" Few will want to tarry when it's time for lunch and ""Even the birds/ are resting now/in the lovely woods."" But Tamas and Bramble are down-to-earth company after the emotionally volatile parrot of Punch's Secret (1974) and the minimal verse is just accomplished enough to keep that precarious balance between sentimental and sec.