The Crossways
His raised hand tells the terror of the wood.
poetry
Lament
We walked a rock-strewn road through barren sands,
The Print Above the Mantel
The print above the mantel shows
Stand on the Mountaintop
Stand on the mountaintop
Cross Purposes
Cold it is tonight, and still
Childhood Hours
I remember being left alone away from them all
Largo
Night on the wind, and the treetops made beautiful
Transmutations
The shy thing in a shadow of fern
Clan Soul
This is my foster-skull
The North Wind Doth Blow
Left on a lonely island to die
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Current Issue: No. 301
