Devri sent me this poem by Elizabeth Coatsworth.
Posted by admin on October 5th, 2007 filed in UncategorizedDreams And dreams like bats (which with small cries go chasing gnats and long-legged flies) wing through the darkness of the breast until with day they take their rest, hanging head downwards, vague, aloof, like some soft fungus on a roof.
Leave a Comment
You must be logged in to post a comment.