The Moon Is A Friend For The

Tongues Wrangled Dark At A Man. He Buttoned His Overcoat And Stood Alone. In A Snowstorm, Red Hollyberries, Thoughts, He Stood Alone.

We Read Robert Browning's Poetry. Here We Needed No Guidance From The Professor: The Poems Themselves Were Enough.

Newspapers Tell Beforehand What Is Going To Happen - Maybe.

Valor Is A Gift. Those Having It Never Know For Sure Whether They Have It Until The Test Comes.

Corn Wind In The Fall, Come Off The Black Lands, Come Off The Whisper Of The Silk Hangers, The Lap Of The Flat Spear Leaves.