Robert Wrigley: The Consciousness of Everything
That time’s lost now, when a stone could hurt,
when a feather missed its wing,
when sky kissed clouds and grass kissed dirt
and nothing thought itself just a thing.
May 26, 2020 · 2 Comments
Robert Wrigley: Two Poems
they rise and form their three- or four-bird patrols
leaving the haunted campus behind,
until the priest raven perches alone and calls,
in search of the people none of them can find.
April 9, 2020 · 1 Comment
Robert Wrigley: Taking Care
Tornillo, Texas It must be assumed that the caretakers— if that’s what they are called and not guards— are kind. If not parents then parental in appropriately incarcerative ways. … Continue reading
November 28, 2018 · 3 Comments
