Poetry and Scale
Flying changes the scale of things. From up here at 40,000 feet, the immense boreal forest of northern Canada looks […]
Flying changes the scale of things. From up here at 40,000 feet, the immense boreal forest of northern Canada looks […]
From the garden rose the sound of bees that lurched and wobbled through the peonies. We ate eggs, French toast,
What need or duty makes me leave our warm bed with you put on cold 4 a.m. clothes heat coffee,
The town ends at Pearl’s place, a rough plank four room shack. Half an hour to school walking if you
AFGHANISTAN CONFESSION 49 the chaplain pulls all the lousy shifts safe beside the dead the brass choir in his head
They’ll starve anyway;or will you give them your share?Drowning’s best.Find a burlap sack. Potato will do. If it’s not big