The Quiet Man
Before of the quiet man.
poetry
Dark Hinterland
The mindless present now possesses me
Sea, Cloud
The bones of this sea are fleshed by water
For My Daughters
When defences crumble
When we Have our own Room
When we have our own room,
Remembering
No ocean surge will sound so rich and strange
A Dream
'This will be hard,' my uncle said;
Crown
Slow-eroding is pain.
The Beggar: response to a poem by Raymond Souster
As simple as this:
Affinity
Not an alikeness; but the bread broken
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Current Issue: No. 301
