Nuit Blanche By Amy Lowell - Giggle Poems
Ghostly and vaporous her gown sweeps by The twilight dusking wall, I hear her feet Delaying on the gravel, and a sigh, Briefly permitted, touches the ...
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A Fixed Idea By Amy Lowell - Giggle Poems
What torture lurks within a single thought When grown too constant; and however kind, However welcome still, the weary mind Aches with its presence.
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High Noon at Los Alamos By Eleanor Wilner - Giggle Poems
To turn a stone with its white squirming underneath, to pry the disc from the sun’s eclipse—white heat coiling in the blinded eye: to these malign??? ...
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Bat Cave By Eleanor Wilner - Giggle Poems
The cave looked much like any other from a little distance but as we approached, came almost to its mouth, we saw its walls within that slanted up int...
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Bailing Out-A Poem for the 1970s By Eleanor Wilner - Giggle Poems
The trees had trapped the flimsy fabric in their web—everywhere the harnessed bodies hung—helpless, treading air like water.
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Ex Libris By Eleanor Wilner - Giggle Poems
By the stream, where the ground is soft and gives, under the slightest pressure—even??? the fly would leave its footprint here??? and the paw of the s...
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Hunting Manual By Eleanor Wilner - Giggle Poems
It’s easy to catch what no longer captures the mind, long since woven in, a faded tapestry on a crumbling wall made by the women who wore keys at thei...
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Without Regret By Eleanor Wilner - Giggle Poems
Nights, by the light of whatever would burn: tallow, tinder and the silken rope of wick that burns slow, slow we wove the baskets from the long gold s...
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The Last Man By Eleanor Wilner - Giggle Poems
The reassuring rows of brick fa?ades, litter baskets overflowing with the harvest of the streets and, when the light turns, the people move in unison,...
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Reading the Bible Backwards By Eleanor Wilner - Giggle Poems
His mother bent above him, singing a lullaby in the liquid tongue invented for the very young—short syllables like dripping from an eave mixed with th...
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The Messenger By Eleanor Wilner - Giggle Poems
The messenger runs, not carrying the news of victory, or defeat; the messenger, unresting, ???has always been running, the wind before and behind him,...
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Facing into It By Eleanor Wilner - Giggle Poems
So it is here, then, after so long, and after all— as the light turns in the leaves in the old golden way of fall, ?????????????????? as the small bea...
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