Poetry
Summer 2002
Where the Arrows Fell
“Sent out of sight, somewhere becoming rain.” —Philip Larkin At the upturns of your grin, the red beard this year's begun threading itself with white. "Each aged hair a […]
Poetry
Summer/Fall 1999
The Feast of San Silvestro
All week, the explosions have increased. On Monday, three or four startled the afternoon, sending up a piazza- ful of pigeons, their wings clattering like water on stone. Every car alarm […]