The dead do not needaspirin orsorrow,I suppose.but they might needrain.not shoesbut a place towalk.not cigarettes,they tell us,but a place to burn.or we’re told:space and a place to flymight be thesame.the dead don’t need me.nor do...

sometimes all we need to be able to continue aloneare the deadrattling the wallsthat close us in.

The country people, indeed, did not always clearly distinguish between the Fairies and the dead. They called them both the ‘Silent People’; and the Milky Way they thought was the path along which the dead...

Stop a minute, Ambrose!” interrupted Master Nathaniel. “I’ve got a sudden silly whim that we should take an oath I must have read when I was a youngster in some old book… the words have...

the cemetery is the home of those who are not here, come in.

When we are asleep, so it seems to me, we sleep surrounded by all the years. I have imagined, sleeping, that I heard the footsteps of the long-dead; I have held conversations with them, and...

Only a poet can translate for the dead.