At night—the light turned off, the filament …
John Updike
Pearl Avenue runs past the high-school lot, …
The line didn’t move, though there were not …
Those dutiful dogtrots down airport corridors …
The shadows have their seasons, too. …
Such heat! It brings the brain back to its basic blank. …
What can you say about Pennsylvania …
Distance brings proportion. From here …
The spirit has infinite facets, but the body …
How long will our bewildered heirs …