LIBRARY
PUFp/N
Sup-aertiaie coming
lose blues
don't like working
but don't need shoes
spread my toes
feel my blood humming
oh mama
Sumnertime coming.
David Kresh
Weeds
the weeds are greener
than the
seered
sapped
grass
they glare
as if emblazoned
with lights
stealing the sight
of impressionable idlers
from the
tenderly
tended,
tranquil
grass
they protrude
in all $heir
bold
bad
bigness
and no one notices
the cut
cared for
grass
I go
with my
basket and fork
like a warrior
to destroy
the wicked
willful
weeds*
Janet Lockard
SWARTHMORERNS
Sonnet
(sung deep in night to a
fcjfusband, carver of wood
and new father of a boy-child.)
Crafter of pawns and kings.your solemn knifhts
Have mounted for the games rnd been laid low.
But here you sleep,a forest smell at night,
A victor of a glen without a blow.
Ah . . . once beside our cradle close you stood,
Jhe cherry wood carved by your cool veined hand,
And pride across your foreherd swiftlv rode
After your tenderness assumed its stand.
I did not tell you then, just what you were
To me, t. cup of child, a hand near full.
You seemed too great for tongue and human word.
Trunk of your soul I S"w; the rest was dulled.
Pull soft you sleep, your head upon my breast.
I swell with joy for trees within this nest.
sheila Conboy
Cautionary ime
Would one solemnly eccost
A rose
koA. ask it to explain
itself?
I'ould one net a butterfly
v
.ith words
ind tear its gauzy wing;?
Apart?
Tread gentl;r
||j|$ Round the well-wrought u r n Should one march with heavy
Feet, when
They may drive away the
Unicorn?
Carolyn Goldberg
f Vol X # I
S w a ^ ^ o / c Co Me**.
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