poetry archive

i despise my friends more than you
did you ever see an alligator
the old west, the old time
when a deed is done for freedom
uplifting, as the wind blew
a look is but a ray
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
and my name is truthful
when night drifts along the streets of the city
rising moon has hid the stars
glass-blower of time
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
the arches of the red bridge
to what shall a woman liken her beloved