You heap the logs and try to fill / The little room with words and cheer, / But silent feet are on the hill, / Across the window veiled eyes peer. ~ Hortense King Flexner
BOOKS for October
Especially when the October wind (Some let me make you of autumnal spells, The spider-tongued, and the loud hill of Wales) With fists of turnips punishes the land, Some let me make you of the heartless words. The heart is drained that, spelling in the scurry Of chemic blood, warned of the coming fury. By…