Poems by John Montague
Blessing
... Mere humans, we forget what light ...
No Music
... I'll tell you a sore truth, little understood ...
The Golden Hook
... into the warm currents of the knownthe other tugging ...
There are Days
... (those crackling branches!)and place it firmly down ...
Uprooting
... Then They started on the walls, ...
Paths
... —the oil-fed incubator&mdash ...
