The seed of Appomattox blooms; its fruit</br>Rots where eyes are dazed with a hungry searching,</br>And ears are deaf with steps that murmur and foll… - Donald Davidson

This is an autumn when they come no more.</br>Beech leaves yellow and fall, the beech-mast rots</br>Uneaten. Infertile now the beech</br>Hollows its heart, begetting naught.</br>There is frost on the grandson's eyes,</br>And only rumor upon the skies...

I want the word that burns into my heart</br>Like God's coal alive on the Prophet's tongue.</br>I would listen now while memory is ablaze</br>To seal your testament within my soul.

The probing knife of madness</br>Can start a dullard brain;</br>Cold cheeks feel kisses</br>And warm with tears again