A Gathering of Poems
Summer 1985
Recalling a Conversation with My Daughter
When the dark wind blows over rooftops and the song of snow whispers in its most secret breaths that we are all dying, I think of you, child, dying. […]
A Gathering of Poems
Summer 1985
The Horses of Morning
The horses of morning illuminate the meadow, ponderous in their steamy breath; their strong teeth, white as lilies of the valley, clip the nubs of hay, clover, wild violet. […]