Sheep in Fog |
The hills step off into whiteness.People or starsRegard me sadly, I disappoint them.The train leaves a line of breath.O slowHorse the colour of rust,Hooves, dolorous bells -All morning theMorning has ...
Posted by on Thu, 21 Dec 2006 01:25:00 GMT |
Elm |
I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root;It is what you fear.I do not fear it: I have been there.Is it the sea you hear in me,Its dissatisfactions?Or the voice of nothing, that wa...
Posted by on Sun, 17 Dec 2006 16:25:00 GMT |
