Quote #3
This is a grassy ghetto, and no home.
More from A.M. Klein
- And my tears, too, have stained this heirloomed ground, When reading in these treatises some weird Miracle, I turned a leaf and found A whi…
- For the tourist's brown pennies scattered at the old church door, the ragged papooses jump, and bite the dust.
- Where are the braves, the faces like autumn fruit, who stared at the child from the coloured frontispiece?