Mourning Poem For The Queen Of Sunday (Robert Hayden Poems)
Lord's lost Him His mockingbird, His fancy warbler; Satan sweet-talked her, four bullets hushed her. Who would have thought she'd end that way?Four bullets hushed ...
Lord's lost Him His mockingbird, His fancy warbler; Satan sweet-talked her, four bullets hushed her. Who would have thought she'd end that way?Four bullets hushed ...
The cretonne in your willow chairShows through a zone of rosy air,A tree of parrots, agate-eyed,With blue-green crests and plumes ...
"I - At Her Dugout Because it's cut in the canyon bank, you looked For a rabbit hole with a ...
Dear Dolly! who does not recallThe thrilling page that pictured allThose charms that held our sense in thrall Just as ...
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