This poem is taken from Stand 232, 19(4) December 2021 - February 2022.
Two Poems
I Might Have Howled at the Moon
Over Carriacou, a pale crescent stalked me.
Tiredness wrung me out; I had traveled already
Two days and nights, stopping first at Barbados.
In Grenada I watched her nightly fattening
...
Over Carriacou, a pale crescent stalked me.
Tiredness wrung me out; I had traveled already
Two days and nights, stopping first at Barbados.
In Grenada I watched her nightly fattening
...
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