About the Author

From the book Kliazma and Yauza
From the book The Wild Rose
From the book Tristan and Isolde
From the book Old Songs
From the book Gates. Windows. Arches  
From the book Stanzas in the Manner of Alexander Pope
From the book Stellae and Inscriptions
From the book The Iambic Verses
The Chinese Travelogue
From An Unfinished Book
From the book The Evening Song
From the book Elegies
From the book The Beginning of a Book
From the book Gates. Windows. Arches
An Old Testament Motif
On a mourning eve of bird silence
of wordless leaves and fish
a looming cradle is balanced
its swaying hawsers creak.

Deep is the dream-dust clinging
under the shoe; hushed and deep.
And the empty crandle is swinging.
And Rachael inclines towards sleep.

She’s burdened with grief and forgetful,
but she wakes and she curses her sloth
and, distracted, looks into the cradle
at its aqueous mirror below.

The naked waters are smiling
and shift in uneasy surprise.
In the dark porch someone’s deciding,
adjusting their breath and their eyes.

Robert Reid
Not by sea, nor by tree, nor by powerful star...
Mountain Ode
 An Old Testament Motif
The Grasshoper and the Cricket
In the Liquor Store
To Lycinius
In the desert of life… What am I saying...
On the Death of Leonid Gubanov
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