Bird's Hill
I came like an invalid, sick
poetry
Peacocked Lawns: For Alice
The cedars having grown too tall
Laurentian November
All around are the upturned bowls of hills,
Compass Reading (At an Exhibition)
My friend (the White Rabbit)
Arrow for an American
Not mine the deep point piercing through the hour,
Sentience
Listen, ear, to racing way and tempest,
Presence
Here, in the presence
Aftermath
I do not greatly care,
Green Grows Life
Green glows life and breath breathless
Adolescence
A platinum sword, blanketed in felt, lay
Pages
Current Issue: No. 298
