Lines for Winter (audio only)
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More by this poet
The Coming of Light
Even this late it happens: the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air. Even this late the bones of the body shine and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath.
2002
Eating Poetry
Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.
The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress.
1980
From the Long Sad Party
Someone was saying something about shadows covering the field, about how things pass, how one sleeps towards morning and the morning goes. Someone was saying how the wind dies down but comes back, how shells are the coffins of wind but the weather continues. It was a long night and someone said something about the moon shedding its white on the cold field, that there was nothing ahead but more of the same. Someone mentioned a city she had been in before the war, a room with two candles against a wall, someone dancing, someone watching. We began to believe the night would not e
1973