Today, in honor of the end of summer, I’m choosing a poet who is–gasp–still among us in more than just words. Here he is, talking about the end of summer. And of all things, really.
Edgar Oliver, reading his poem, “The End of Summer”
The stuff that comes out a bird's mouth.
Today, in honor of the end of summer, I’m choosing a poet who is–gasp–still among us in more than just words. Here he is, talking about the end of summer. And of all things, really.
Edgar Oliver, reading his poem, “The End of Summer”