Reading “Shadowlands” to a Friend At The Sepulveda Dam by Lois P. Jones
Did my eyes avoid yours, Brother? ~ Johannes Bobrowski, German lyric poet and soldier Mustard grass to our hips – sallow as Gauguin’s Yellow Christ, it blows its seed, mixing with the must of mule fat and sage. When the wind … Continue reading Reading “Shadowlands” to a Friend At The Sepulveda Dam by Lois P. Jones
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