H.D: The Flowering of the Rod
O, give me burning blue
and brittle burnt sea-weed
above the tide-line,
as I stand, still unsatisfied,
under the long shadow-on-snow of the pine.
November 22, 2024 · 10 Comments
H.D: Sheltered Garden
Every way ends, every road,
every foot-path leads at last
to the hill-crest
August 11, 2023 · 4 Comments
John Gould Fletcher: Lincoln
Like a gaunt, scraggly pine
Which lifts its head above the mournful sandhills;
And patiently, through dull years of bitter silence,
Untended and uncared for, starts to grow.
February 20, 2023 · 4 Comments
H.D.: Evening
shadow seeks shadow,
then both leaf
and leaf-shadow are lost
July 2, 2021 · Leave a comment
