To the editor:This is a poem my grandson, Austin Wicker, age 13, wrote. He can say it from memory. I wish I could. I thought when it's hot and the frogs are speaking out at night you might see its ...
As we continue the Sun’s week-long festival, celebrating Rhina Espaillat’s poetry in this year of her ninetieth birthday, we shift gears today from the sonnet to a form that loosens its hold on rhyme ...
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