Timothy Nolan Poems

Harvest

Why the shriek, headstones? Why in
this throbbing sun, this dip and sway
of wind-bellied August hay, is it you alone
who keen? Because it is not you,... more »

Lucifer Wintering

That immortal clutch of oak leaves
I spoke of? The ones immune to wind,
November, to the failing sun itself? Gone.... more »

Timothy Nolan Quotes

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