The Art Divas / Divas of Verse

Choir (Dusk) Such sailing— a wind carrying us where. The day steers east toward the rising and at ...

After Making Love We Hear Footsteps For I can snore like a bullhorn or play loud music or sit up talking with ...

 Ellen West I love sweets,—                       heaven would be dying on a bed of vanilla ice cream ... But ...

A Certain Kind of Eden It seems like you could, but you can’t go back and pull the roots and runners and replan...

My Fathers, The Baltic Low and gray, the sky sinks into the sea. Along the strand stones, busted shells, bott...

The Ides of May Every seventh second the wood thrush speaks its loose curve until in ten minutes the thicket i...

My November Guest My Sorrow, when she's here with me, Thinks these dark days of autumn rain Are beautiful ...