First Things At The Last Minute, by Robert Haas

Posted by Melissa Hassard on December 18, 2014 · Leave a Comment 

The white water rush of some warbler’s song. Last night, a few strewings of ransacked moonlight On the sheets.  You don’t know what slumped forward In the nineteen-forties taxi or why they blamed you Or what the altered landscape, willowy, riparian, Had to do with the reasons why everyone Should be giving things away, quickly, … Continue reading →

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