Thursday, April 1, 2010
Realities Comments
Rating: ★2.7
(To the etchings of Norman Lindsay)
Now the statues lean over each to each, and sing,
Gravely in warm plaster turning; the hedges are dark.
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7/28/2025 1:40:48 AM # 1.0.0
Then the skies open with a light from no moon or star, The dark terraces tremble, melt in a shower of petals; Flowers turn to faces; faces, like small gold panes, Are bodied with a mist of limbs—no dark remains, very fine poem. tony