Blessing (John Montague Poems)
A feel of warmth in this place. In winter air, a scent of harvest. No form of prayer is needed, ...
A feel of warmth in this place. In winter air, a scent of harvest. No form of prayer is needed, ...
I'll tell you a sore truth, little understood It's harder to leave, than to be left: To stay, to leave, ...
Two fish float: one slowly downstream into the warm currents of the known the other tugging against the stream, disconsolate ...
There are days when one should be able to pluck off one's head like a dented or worn helmet, straight ...
My love, while we talked They removed the roof. Then They started on the walls, Panes of glass uprooting From ...
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