Alfred G. Bailey

The empty lighthouse stood where the man who

The tick of sun like salt in ice dissolves the cloak

The ship, her cheeks blown out

As a result of a curious defect of the retina

He found himself in an open field with nothing about.

The idea of publishing a magazine called The Fiddlehead had first been

Frogs,surface of swale

Look well upon the elm whose wittol root

The parchment of his heart an aged stain

Several of these forty-four poems are songs that owe their charm to their light cadence and exquisite diction, but across their gaiety falls a shadow because the author knows the world is "both guilt and God."