Poetry
Winter 1987
Father Fear
He is in the house now—you hear him on the stairs or scraping heavy thingsacross the cellar floor. He was that tap at the window,that scratching on your pillow. He […]
Poetry
Winter 1987
Raisins
Our pettiness is endless.Like the ancient raisin I noticed ground into the softwood on the landing, and I remembered telling you tostop scattering raisins all over the house. That was […]