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Belgium

Not with her ruined silver spires,
 Not with her cities shamed and rent,
 Perish the imperishable fires
 That shape the homestead from the tent.

 Wherever men are staunch and free,
 There shall she keep her fearless state,
 And homeless, to great nations be
 The home of all that makes them great.

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Let us forget awhile-or may …

Marion Strobel

The night which fell upon the world outside …

Nancy Telfair

Pity not the dead; …

William Haskell Simpson

The old wooden steps to the front door …

Denise Levertov

All day I see the plowman turning …

Walter Kidd

On this day they break bread …

Leah Goldberg

It’s a motley lot. A few still stand …

Jeffrey Harrison

BRIEF NOTICES …

Anonymous

The glossary

The language about poetry

From aubade to zuihitsu, 207 definitions of the forms, figures, and schools that shape the line.

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