We are the children of light, Wise, not companioned By goats In a condemned graveyard. Backward blowing Blizzards of memory Flatten out The genealogies. But ...
There's a wind blowing Cold through the corridors, A ghost-wind, The flapping of defeated wings, A hell-fantasy From meadows damned To eternal April And listen...
They laughed at one I loved- The triangular hill that hung Under the Big Forth. They said That I was bounded by the whitethorn hedges Of the little farm and di...
We have tested and tasted too much, lover- Through a chink too wide there comes in no wonder. But here in the Advent-darkened room Where the dry black bread and...
And sometimes I am sorry when the grass Is growing over the stones in quiet hollows And the cocksfoot leans across the rutted cart-pass That I am not the voice ...
