Thunderstorm, Riverside Drive by Babette Deutsch WHO, above, prepares an austere fiesta? None. It is carpets of cloud unrolling prove The heavens desire dancing. Clearly they…
Death of a Dog by Babette Deutsch The loping in the darkness, here, now there, As the wild scents whispered, the roadside beckoned, while Things without heads…
Memorial Hour by Babette Deutsch FOR all its busy joy, the hill, Where now noon sits in stillness, grows A living monument to leisure. Here…
