American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry

John Koethe

How thin time seems, how late the fragrance Bursting from the captured memories of my childhood Into the warm evening air that still surrounds me here. And how the names still throb inside my mind, and how my heart dissolves Into a trembling, luminous confusion of bright tears. For the texture of this life is… Continue reading John Koethe

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