The Poet has a Drink in the Luxembourg
Reflected violets fall, a crystal barrow
poetry
The Well
Slide down the blossoming well you may discover
After Sappho
Joy as Heaven knows the favoured lover
Union Station
Where greetings explode and unfold
Winter Window Flower
Into my room
Rain Builds
Rain falls above the hay
Eighteenth Century
Sober, it entered, drunk with being sober,
George Ernst
George Ernst went in for horses all his life.
At Morning, At Namur
I am bathed in green,
Eclogue Nine
These are skulls that were a waste of breath,
Pages
Current Issue: No. 298
