The Golden Fish
The golden fish beneath the stones
poetry
The Fool
Though in my ear a hundred dogmas shout,
Woodcut Fiddlehead
Pegasus and Swan
On sky as polished as a shell
The Holy Sleepers
Darkness flows and sinks the house
On the Road to Vicenza
Lopsided with God
Not All, Not All
Her quick hands flickered up among the vines
Legend
Whoever is washed ashore that place --
Sisters
My sister and I when we were close together
April
Green stabs of leaf shoot through the buds:
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
