A Valentine For Hands (Annie Finch Poem)
names, silence-quietest minutes (building like rain or returning like seas) since they have touched me, your warm hands have sown ...
names, silence-quietest minutes (building like rain or returning like seas) since they have touched me, your warm hands have sown ...
The blond hair shimmering in the morning sunlight the sun hidden, not visible behind the house across the street Only ...
She was sitting there at her computer, listening to one of our songs one that touches us still saying what ...
My name, on the palm of his hand holding me on the skin of the creator a part of him, ...
Scripture creates a mystery of connecting the various threads of faith, of numbered days by the creator and free will ...
Electricity in the air Charged particles Sparks between us Clap of thunder Heavy rain Beats on the metal roof Blackout ...
By way of a vanished bridge we cross this river as a cloud of lifted snow would ascend a mountain. ...
It nests in the hollow of my pelvis, I carry it with both hands, as if offering my stomach, as ...
The mountain held the town as in a shadow I saw so much before I slept there once: I noticed ...
Anastasia and the sad snow falling a toiling sky and a long white line of hills a distant birthplace short ...
Venus, when her son was lost, Cried him up and down the coast, In hamlets, palaces, and parks, And told ...
Under the parabola of a ball, a child turning into a man, I looked into the air too long. The ...
While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood Under ...
A loss of something ever felt I -- The first that I could recollect Bereft I was -- of what ...
White founts falling in the Courts of the sun, And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run; There ...
To the tune of "Intoxicated in the Shadow of Flowers" Thin mist, dense clouds, a grief-stricken day; auspicious incense burns ...
A few minutes ago, I stepped onto the deck of the house. From there I could see and hear the ...
What is Africa to me: Copper sun or scarlet sea, Jungle star or jungle track, Strong bronzed men, or regal ...
SHE will not sleep, for fear of dreams, But, rising, quits her restless bed, And walks where some beclouded beams ...
When, by decree of the supreme power, The Poet appears in this annoyed world, His mother, blasphemous out of horror ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny they are small, ...
The lamplit page is turned, the dream forgotten; The music changes tone, you wake, remember Deep worlds you lived before,-deep ...
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
Plus quan se atque suos amavit omnes, nunc... - Catullus You were my playmate by the sea. We swam together. ...
Walking is like imagination, a single step dissolves the circle into motion; the eye here and there rests on a ...
Yad Mordechai. Those who fell here still look out the windows like sick children who are not allowed outside to ...
May-, 1786.I LANG hae thought, my youthfu' friend, A something to have sent you, Tho' it should serve nae ither ...
FINTRY, my stay in wordly strife, Friend o' my muse, friend o' my life, Are ye as idle's I am? ...
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