POEM FOR THE DAY

A Village Life Louise Glück The death and uncertainty that awaits me as they await all men, the shadows evaluating me because it can time to...

The Wishing Tree Kathleen Jamie I stand neither in the wilderness nor in fairyland but in the fold  of a green hill the tilt from one parish...

the tragedy of the leaves Charles Bukowski I awakened to dryness and the ferns were dead, the potted plants yellow as corn; my woman was gon...

the birds Charles Bukowski the acute and terrible air hangs with murder as summer birds mingle in the branches and warbleio and mystify the ...

Through the Struan Door Robin Robertson There is the story of a boy, fetched from the water. He was set to work, feeding the cauldron of the...

Of Mùthadh/Mutability Robin Robinson              ( a protection spell)                 This book is for the taken: for all those feart of t...

The Shadow on the Stone Thomas Hardy       I went by the Druid stone    That stands in the garden white and lone, And I stopped and looked a...