Built long ago, old sills rotting in mud, filled now with soft ash from a thousand fires that warmed me, ash settled indelibly on these books, never to be clean again, and on these shoulders and hands. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE LEAVES by HAYDEN CARRUTH GEOMETRY IS THE MIND OF GOD by JAMES GALVIN AMOUR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 6 by CLARENCE MAJOR SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: AMI GREEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE SPARROW HARK IN THE RAIN (ALEXANDER STEPHENS HEARS NEWS) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |