Trinity
The tongue of fire leans on the air,
Robert Richards
Lucky Shot
The birds went capering away in crowds.
Granny
The cupola was faded green;
Lucky Shot
The birds went capering away in crowds.
The Victory
On shuddering tall pillars of white flame
Untitled
The dapper python rustles down
Not All, Not All
Her quick hands flickered up among the vines
Untitled
Yellow and green of the lime fall foliage
Untitled
Like a lissom willow grew
Attila
Southward from the Baltic shore
Pages
Current Issue: No. 299
