Postscript
I say the stanza ends, but it never does,
poetry
Memorial
So, have these lands, involved of pioneers
To a Little Monkey
Your curious cabalitic eyes
Naomi's Thoughts of Ruth
The night wind nuzzles the barley beards
Death Was No Empty Hat
Death was no empty hat, but a swung trapeze
London Dance
The round laying land and I and the air
Introspection
When the voice rings hollow of street campaigners
The Private World
in vertiginous minarets
Sonnet
As Shakespeare's mistress with lascivious eyes
At a River Mouth
Oh the time was when when we walked
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
