Walking The Marshland (Stephen Dunn Poem)
It was no place for the faithless, so I felt a little odd walking the marshland with my daughters, Canada ...
It was no place for the faithless, so I felt a little odd walking the marshland with my daughters, Canada ...
The sky in the trees, the trees mixed up with what's left of heaven, nearby a patch of daffodils rooted ...
To hold a damaged sparrow under water until you feel it die is to know a small something about the ...
He'd spent his life trying to control the names people gave him; oh the unfair and the accurate equally hurt. ...
When Mother died I thought: now I'll have a death poem. That was unforgivable. Yet I've since forgiven myself as ...
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