The very earth exhales it in a rush, the swell from the frost heave held like a breath these last 4 months. . . . AND MORE . . . the rest is being shopped around.
I will contact you by mail In the winters of the years With Envelopes enough that you Can thatch your broken house With paper. Will you, I wonder, Open these at once? And if you don’t, What will be done? Will you leave them sealed, An extra insulation from Several pages Folded thrice To keep […]
Nothing more destructive, or Lovely, than the fields bursting With the golden blight. Bringing brilliant light Colors of choking and smothering Wildness.