Poetry
Spring 1963
Stock
Whom he muzzled—Grandpa—before her, Honored with invitations to his den, Hand on elktooth, hat in hand, I could imagine without the family-wise Hazy fugacities, pious exclamations: Forest jokers who fed […]
Poetry
Spring 1964
Miss Jack
Looped brown damask sequestering a face That never disliked lilacs, the draped Windows may close at a touch—of wind, perhaps, From wherever spring is benign. So it is Hard to […]