Hatsumomo's lovely smille grew... until her lips were as rich and full as drops of blood beading at the edge of a wound
Arthur GoldenAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: December 6, 1956
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If I am ever to find these trees meaningful
I must have you by the hand. As it is, they
stretch dusty fingers into an obscure sky,
and the snow looks up like a face dirtied
with tears. Should I cry out and see what happens?
There could only be a stranger wandering
in this landscape, cold, unfortunate, himself
frozen fast in wintry eyes.
Frank O'Hara