Poetry
Summer 2014
Snow
From the Welsh* No world but white. Even words of a girl won’t shift me from the peat fire. Here’s what I say to her: that I would arrive […]
Poetry
Summer 2014
The Turn in the Road
Past forty, a man can carry the flush of a tree in leaf and shoulder a quiver of speech. He can laugh quietly over his scars as he strides the […]
Poetry
Summer 2014
The Mansion of the Woods
From the Welsh* I heard their larking only yesterday the loquacious boys of the green trees. To me they are laureates, aflutter with god. a high riot in the […]