Meg Kearney: Hearts of Poets (Two Poems)
By the time his body washed ashore, all
that was left was burned on the beach, deathbed
a pyre lit by three friends; two then fled
Edwin Arlington Robinson: The Sheaves
Where long the shadows of the wind had rolled,
Green wheat was yielding to the change assigned;
And as by some vast magic undivined
The world was turning slowly into gold.
Edna St. Vincent Millay: I shall go back again to the bleak shore
I shall go back again to the bleak shore
And build a little shanty on the sand…
Christina Rossetti: The Plague
‘Listen, the last stroke of death’s noon has struck—
The plague is come,’ a gnashing Madman said…
Christina Rossetti: From Sunset to Star Rise
Go from me, summer friends, and tarry not: I am no summer friend, but wintry cold, A silly sheep benighted from the fold, A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot. … Continue reading
Arlene Weiner: Nearer
All day our brilliant screens show without letup hysterical screamers winning money prizes, a woman sneering at another’s getup, boys doing jackass stunts in various guises, in aspiration to become … Continue reading
