Workers’ Playtime, bread and jam, Mantovani, radiogram, Pause to wonder who I am. I’m the boy who listens to Irene and Bert Rearranging the furniture, Especially to Bert rearranging my...
There’s sadness in the Sunday bells. Happy those they bring together, For me the sound of ringing tells Me I’m alone. Unseen tether, It ties me to this silent room....
Slow to church, where the biglads skulk, Their knuckles hard as pews, Slow to church, where the choirboys sulk, In the shadow of the yews. Slow to church, where the...
With the cold on her clothes And the beer on her breath, She bent down and kissed me, Her face white as death, And she sang me a song They...
Dear son, We hope that this letter will find you are well Though you’ve passed through the doors to a living hell. Keep our words close and remember that this...
Do not stay silent at my death, Beat drums, ring bells, I only knew the whine of shells. Shout out, make sounds, I only knew the rifle rounds, Their buzzing,...
The green hopes of all our summers fall from the years to dust. Though our dreams freeze on the breath of their remembrance we must, Gathered by this open wound...
I am that unexpected curl of mist, Neither earth-locked silent shroud Nor the white on blue of skyward cloud. I am the creature of the woodland edge, Not of the...
See the soaring giant sequoias rising to a roofless sky, Wood smoke drifting, incense burning, through The slanted bars of light. The pool that christens with its waters sends a...
Come walk with me the cobbled square And follow Albert’s frozen stare Towards the corporate castle where Committee men and women share Cathedral quiet and ancient air. For this is...
