Archive for May 25th, 2004

Hardy looks at the ocean and sees the ocean: A distant verge morosely gray Appears, while clots of flying foam Break from its muddy monochrome, And a light blinks up far away. (The Wind’s Prophecy) Dickinson looks in a meadow and sees a snake: The grass divides as with a comb, A spotted shaft is […]

Aaron Haspel | Posted May 25, 2004 @ 1:20 PM | Poetry