اشعار

Out walking in the frozen swamp one gray day,

Out through the fields and the woods

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;

Gods of Poker

Love just knocked the door.

Back out of all this now too much for us,

The land was ours before we were the land’s.

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,

I have been one acquainted with the night.

The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard

Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table