Back therea tree above the riverthat flows A town like any othernestled with it–stopping it–so that children smother Flooded memories hidden and weptdried by timelaughter That old oakshould have…

Something I wrote a really long time ago Proposition: if, by some quirk of fate, I was teaching an English course, what book would I add to the…

Something I wrote long ago.  “There is a silence where hath been no sound  There is a silence where no sound may be,  In the cold grave–under the…