poetry anthology

over the river, on the hill
glass-blower of time
friend, whose smile has come to be
i've won the race
passing through huddled and ugly walls
gaily through the fields we danced
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
made up of loveliness alone
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
there by the window in the old house
out of the sparkling sea
i love my life, but not too well
the light withdrawn
she knows a cheap release