Septuagesima (John Burnside Poem)
I dream of the silence the day before Adam came to name the animals, The gold skins newly dropped from ...
I dream of the silence the day before Adam came to name the animals, The gold skins newly dropped from ...
Behind faces and gestures We remain mute And spoken words heavy With what we ignore or keep silent Betray us ...
My whole world is all you refuse: a black light, angelic and cold on the path to the orchard, fox-runs ...
As cats bring their smiling mouse-kills and hypnotised birds, slinking home under the light of a summer's morning to offer ...
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