In Celebration of World Poetry Day

Swelling Hour Swelling hour, ebbing light Dusk of night—deep and deeper still, Stealing light as May’s shifting breeze Steals sound: still and deep and silent. Still in swelling hour’s silent depths May’s maternal night shelters The fugitives of ebbing light. Blades of night-dark pasture stretch And reach and reach and grasp Then bend and sway […]

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