My Fathers, The Baltic (Philip Levine Poems)
Along the strand stones, busted shells, wood scraps, bottle tops, dimpled and stainless beer cans. Something began here a century ...
Along the strand stones, busted shells, wood scraps, bottle tops, dimpled and stainless beer cans. Something began here a century ...
Unknown faces in the street And winter coming on. I Stand in the last moments of The city, no more ...
Shake out my pockets! Harken to the call Of that calm voice that makes no sound at all! Take of ...
Rain filled the streets once a year, rising almost to door and window sills, battering walls and roofs until it ...
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