Holy Day (Philip Levine Poems)
Los Angeles hums a little tune -- trucks down the coast road for Monday Market packed with small faces blinking ...
Los Angeles hums a little tune -- trucks down the coast road for Monday Market packed with small faces blinking ...
2 a.m. December, and still no mon rising from the river. My mother home from the beer garden stands before ...
Los Angeles hums a little tune -- trucks down the coast road for Monday Market packed with small faces blinking ...
from an officer's diary during the last war I The sour daylight cracks through my sleep-caked lids. "Stephan! Stephan!" The ...
1 Dawn. First light tearing at the rough tongues of the zinnias, at the leaves of the just born. Today ...
The day comes slowly in the railyard behind the ice factory. It broods on one cinder after another until each ...
In Lake Forest, a suburb of Chicago, a woman sits at her desk to write me a letter. She holds ...
A man roams the streets with a basket of freestone peaches hollering, "Peaches, peaches, yellow freestone peaches for sale." My ...
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