Late Light (Philip Levine Poems)
Rain filled the streets once a year, rising almost to door and window sills, battering walls and roofs until it ...
Rain filled the streets once a year, rising almost to door and window sills, battering walls and roofs until it ...
I bought a dollar and a half's worth of small red potatoes, took them home, boiled them in their jackets ...
Take this quiet woman, she has been standing before a polishing wheel for over three hours, and she lacks twenty ...
Some days I catch a rhythm, almost a song in my own breath. I'm alone here in Brooklyn Heights, late ...
First light. This misted field is the world, that man slipping the greased bolt back and forth, that man tunneled ...
We stripped in the first warm spring night and ran down into the Detroit River to baptize ourselves in the ...
All afternoon my father drove the country roads between Detroit and Lansing. What he was looking for I never learned, ...
Since I don't know who will be reading this or even if it will be read, I must invent someone ...
Earth and water without form, change, or pause: as if the third day had not come, this calm norm of ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories