“Give me some light!” cries Hamle… uncle midway through the murder of Gonzago. “Light! Light!” cry s… courtesans. Here, as in Denmark, it’s dark at four, and even the mo…
There’s just no accounting for hap… or the way it turns up like a prod… who comes back to the dust at your… having squandered a fortune far aw… And how can you not forgive?
The young bull dropped his head an… Only a wispy wire—electrified—kept… apart. That, and two long rows of… An ancient apple tree blossomed prodigally pink and whit…
On the way to the village store I drive through a down-draft from the neighbor’s chimney. Woodsmoke tumbles from the eaves backlit by sun, reminding me
Her sickness brought me to Connec… Mornings I walk the dog: that par… is intact. Who’s painted, who’s in… or put siding on, who’s burned the… with lime—that’s the news on Ardmo…
Let the light of late afternoon shine through chinks in the barn,… up the bales as the sun moves down… Let the cricket take up chafing as a woman takes up her needles
Searching for pillowcases trimmed with lace that my mother-in-law once made, I open the chest of dra… upstairs to find that mice have chewed the blue and white lin…
A second crop of hay lies cut and turned. Five gleaming crows search and peck between the rows. They make a low, companionable squ… and like midwives and undertakers
I washed a load of clothes and hung them out to dry. Then I went up to town and busied myself all day. The sleeve of your best shirt
The dog and I push through the ri… of dripping junipers to enter the open space high on th… where I let him off the leash. He vaults, snuffling, between tuft…
The others bent their heads and st… Confused, I asked my neighbor to explain—a sturdy, bright-cheeke… who brought raw milk to school fro… herd of Holsteins. Ann had a blue…
I am the blossom pressed in a book… found again after two hundred year… I am the maker, the lover, and the… When the young girl who starves sits down to a table
Drugged and drowsy but not asleep I heard my blind roommate’s daught… helping her with her meal: “What’s that? Squash?” “No. It’s spinach.”
The young man, hardly more than a boy, who fired the shot had looked at him with an air not of anger but of concentration, as if he were surveying a road,
A fly wounds the water but the wou… soon heals. Swallows tilt and twit… overhead, dropping now and then to… the outward-radiating evidence of… The green haze on the trees change…
