Sonnet 146 – On Death

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,  Why feed’st these rebel powers that thee array? Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth,  Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? Why so large cost, having so short a lease,  Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?...

Cactus Land

This is the dead land This is cactus land Here the stone images Are raised, here they receive The supplication of a dead man’s hand Under the twinkle of a fading star. ~ T S...

Nepenthe

Give me Nepenthe     With the lulling eyes To shut away the world!     To sleep, to dream, And in this clover-scented air    Slip through imprisoning Time And find my Spirit free! Alas, not thus     Shalt thou escape from Time. Thou wilt return again     And yet again...