Digging It In (Dorothy Coade Hewett Poems)
My father's spadehas the hollow sound of regretGoodbye Dad but he doesn't look upwhere the cannas once grew by ...
My father's spadehas the hollow sound of regretGoodbye Dad but he doesn't look upwhere the cannas once grew by ...
unfurling our Japanese parasolsout in the desertwe arrange our dolls' tea seton an upturned butter boxwe have invited the little ...
Here they come the clever ladiesin their detachable Peter Pan collarstheir fringes their sober meinhiding such anger suchsubtle vices dizzying ...
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