A Lark


A few of my favorite images excerpted from the Collected Poems of Philip


Where has the tree gone, that locked
Earth to the sky?


To a Very Slow Air

The cloven hills are kneeling
the sun such an anointment


I am washed upon a rock

A lonely cloud drifts in the sky.
I dread its indecision.



Your mind lay open like a drawer of knifes


No Road

To watch that world come up like a cold sun

Next, Please

A huge and birdless silence

Home is so Sad

That vase.

If grief could burn out

Heart lies impotent



Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *