T.S. Eliot: Rhapsody on a Windy Night
The memory throws up high and dry
A crowd of twisted things
December 9, 2022 · 8 Comments
T.E. Hulme: Autumn
And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge
Like a red-faced farmer.
October 18, 2019 · Leave a comment
H.D: Evening
The light passes from ridge to ridge, from flower to flower— the hepaticas, wide-spread under the light grow faint— the petals reach inward, the blue tips bend toward the bluer … Continue reading
June 29, 2018 · Leave a comment