OCCUPANTThe sad mailbox of my extreme youth, what did it ever deliver? The only...
A CRITICPick up your socks. Clean the house once in a while. Go to the dentist. ...
HISTORIANPiles and piles of books, boxes of documents, photographs, bones, shreds of clothes...
YOU WHO KNOWI was just enough bigger that I could wrestle you into the clean straw of the mow...
GRIFFY LAKEI spread my smooth water like a lap and caught the trees' faces where they fell...
Dear Eric,
I am your grandfather's grandfather and through my wakeless
sleep I dream of you. I want to meet you somewhere soon.
I still have the same black suit and halfwild white beard
you've seen in that brown old photograph on the guest room dresser.
I was buried in that stiff suit. What clothes do you wear?
Are they thick and plain? Walking behind my plow, I keep my eye
on my neighbor's land. Where do you plow?
I have one fear: that we will meet and fall into enmity.
But I have this fever to speak with you, and so I ask you:
where can we meet?
Samuel Rensberger