by Naomi Shihab Nye A man leaves the world and the streets he lived on grow a little shorter. One more window dark in this city， the figs on his branc...
by James O'Hern My stonemason John says he uses Elberton granite from Georgia It has the best grain and lasts the longest How long is long I ask O...
by Pattiann Rogers I remember you. You‘re the one who lifted your ancient bones of fossil rock， pulled yourself free of the strata like a plaste...
by Chase Twichell I fired up the mower although it was about to rain—— a chill late September afternoon， wild flowers re-seeding themselve...
by A. R. Ammons...
by Thomas Sayers Ellis My father was an enormous man Who believed kindness and lack of size Were nothing more than sissified Signs of weakness. Narrow...
by Grace Schulman "And down and down and down，" the toddler's mother sings as he clears every ledge. Midway we cross their path. In rain...
by Monica Youn It was hardly a high-tech operation， stealing The Scream. That we know for certain， and what was left behind—— a store-boug...
by Jane Cooper If you want my apartment， sleep in it but let's have a clear understanding： the books are still free agents. If the rocking chair&#...
by H. D. Stars wheel in purple， yours is not so rare as Hesperus， nor yet so great a star as bright Aldeboran or Sirius， nor yet the stained and brill...