I came to my senses with a pencil in my hand And a piece of paper in front of me.
Oh, yesterday, that one, we all cry out. Oh, that one! How rich and possible everything was! How ripe, ready, lavish, and filled with excitement—how hopeful we were on those summer days, under the clean, white racing clouds.
What we want is never simple. We move among the things
Children, when I am ash read by the light of the fire that consumes me
Then they were seized,the four bodies,the burning staves.
Between Wytheville, Virginia and the North Carolina line, he meets a wagon headed where he’s been, seated beside her parents a dark-eyed girl
As such things go, my reign of terrorfelt impressive.
