The Turning (from 'Lot in Grief')
They packed their goods and boarded their homes,
poetry
Don't Leave Too Soon
I shall whisper my love
Motion ('We know of no single thing that is at rest.')
There is no deep, sure stillness
Movement Has Been My Master
Movement has been my master
The Old Idiot
How many times about the solemn rose
Donne Procubitus
Come, let me kneel, that the whole world can say
The Ploughman Homeward Plods
These simple fronds of sound may bell the weather
Love Epistle
Sweet, had I loved in Herrick's golden time,
We April
So this is April, all rain and April.
Loss
I did not hear the trains all night
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Current Issue: No. 301
