Songs For A Colored Singer (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
I A washing hangs upon the line, but it's not mine. None of the things that I can see belong ...
I A washing hangs upon the line, but it's not mine. None of the things that I can see belong ...
Man-Moth: Newspaper misprint for "mammoth." Here, above, cracks in the buldings are filled with battered moonlight. The whole shadow of ...
I dreamed that dead, and meditating, I lay upon a grave, or bed, (at least, some cold and close-built bower). ...
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories