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Edward Weismiller


What Fear Remains

The spider's coil is limned with dew, The bat falls blind against the gate; And every shadowy wing that flew Mysterious and great Folds with the dark, and goes to ground. The frosty branch holds light entwined; And now no snare, no quavering s [...]


HE starts, but dare not cry aloud, Who sees the hawk beneath the cloud— Who sees the thing he hates go by Slowly, within a measured sky, Too arrogant to bend its flight Out of the circle of his sight. This is his enemy, that still Should wheel beyo [...]

The Heart and Not the Sun

The heart consults no sun to find the season. Though watery sunlight burning Through the lean, crumpled leaf reveals it a flowering thing, This does not matter more than if there were frost On earth, no lark returning: "It is spring," the h [...]