Rock Carving (Douglas Alexander Stewart Poems)
The lines grow slack in our hands at full high-water;The midnight rears in the sky; and beneath the boatAnother midnight, ...
The lines grow slack in our hands at full high-water;The midnight rears in the sky; and beneath the boatAnother midnight, ...
Fence must be looked at; fence is too much neglected;Most ancient indeed is fence; but it is not merelyWhite ants' ...
Somewhere in the middle of the ocean every lost riverSorts itself out, reassembles, each picks its own threadWith its one ...
All their lives in a box! What generations,"What centuries of masters, not meaning to be cruelBut needing their labour, taught ...
I walked to the green gum-treeBecause the day was hot;A snake could be anywhereBut that time I forgot.The Duckmaloi lazed ...
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