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| Description: | There are Gothic ways the light comes drifting through a forest clothes fit, things pad themselves stone rests on stone and legends long persist, ... |
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| Description: | The fife and drum are not so innocent the vulture's eye is on the dance |
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| Description: | Rockford, Ill. J.H. Denison Editorial room of the Milwaukee Journal Probably the Black River at Black River Falls Children taug... |
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| Description: | The log who was made King of Logs is here entombed eight round, ten long For his design, the strengthened forest capriciously outgrew them all... |
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| Description: | Our side of the fence is all dovetail — where they winked and upset the story-book, that's over on your side |
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| Description: | New land cut out by real imaginary lines based in older spirit courses lay and bedrock, flight of birds and pointed feet |
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| Description: | If you will tell me, then, the things that you have read I shall not have heard of them but I will read them for your sake There is a meeting ... |
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| Description: | Everybody who lived should get a gold watch for endurance and a chain for hanging |
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| Description: | There used to be a quiet. It wasn't deafness, it was roses But they don't make it any more They think it was a toy |
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| Description: | White horses, white fences that money can't buy |
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| Description: | Star of our Jesus, so extra bright Make me a country child just for tonight Bur Grinnerung an die Jubiläumsfeier der Freien Gemeinde von Sauf ... |
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| Description: | The boss says — The center is — Good workmen then served two masters One a man, the other a craft A fine-edged tool biting life-long in... |
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| Description: | Everybody was wonderful Stars kept rising, pink and gold Trailing threads of breathless music barely out of reach Hand to hand around the n... |
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| Description: | The earth is never still, but speaks her lovers lying twined among the roots of grasses, lying long stretched out from hill to hill There wher... |
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| Description: | In the soft underside of war The home point is to be home again with honor without quite understanding why |
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| Description: | In the afternoon, nothing Overnight, unseen In the morning, a wooden horse with strangers sending telegrams for more |
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| Description: | We were promised, we were told that candy came in stripes and boxes But some was stacked, like lost rewards, the chocolate-coated paradoxes |
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| Description: | Bring back somehow the big Hello Prolong the noisiest day The clapping hands are stilled too soon And much too far away |
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| Description: | A word without momentum that settled on a note of calm caught wind and spun its venom into froth, to cool a Sunday afternoon in June |
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| Description: | All the tribal affidavits came finger-lickin' to pray against the rain to tolerate a cast of wills and listen to the stories from the Book of Comm... |
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