Monthly Archives: November 2018

Falling from the Shoulder of a Mountain

A poem is only the ruins of a city Seen from a distance in the twilight Falling from the shoulder of a mountain. You may imagine its wide boulevardes Teeming with people out for supper Or trinkets or long evenings … Continue reading

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On Hills, Time

I have seen the moon become an ear pressed To the sky, white, cold, listening for you. Yesterday on hills time has worn low The grass was grey and stiff with morning frost. Soon November rain will fall again. The … Continue reading

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