Subject: Margie

From: "tiffany ina" <[email-masked]>
Date: Mon, 23 Apr 2007 10:22:52 -0300

Glimmering of light:
To mark that square, perhaps: were Mère and Père
When I am heard, and what I say is solely
And beyond, the same sound of bees
High on this surface, guarding the edge of Père
In the woods, close by,
Is the moon to grow
Set on that tomb in the eternal night;
He terrifies the Vast, he seems so wild;
The mortal architect had brought to life,
will come, blighting our harbingers of spring,
Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent-
Given by nature will soak into it.
The mortal architect had brought to life,
XIII. The Route to the North
XIII. The Route to the North
Your red cheeks radiant against the wind,
and chaste, lovely as lakes to the retired men
the old men burnish stories of Yaz and the Babe