chris

Originally published in Beast in View (1944) The world is full of loss; bring, wind, my love, My home is where we make our meeting-place, And love whatever I shall touch and read Within that face. Lift, wind, my exile from my eyes; Peace to look, life to listen and confess, Freedom to find to find to find That nakedness.

Originally published in Breaking Open (1973) From you I learned the dark potential theatres of the acts of man holding on a rehearsal stage people and light. You in your red hair ran down the darkened aisle, making documents and poems in their people form the play. Hallie it was from you I learned this: you told the company in dress-rehearsal in that ultimate equipped buildingwhat they lacked: among the lighting, the sight-lines, the acoustics, the perfect revolving stage, they lacked only one thing the most important thing.It would come tonight: The audiencethe response Hallie I learned from you this [...]