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Dreamt by a Man in a Field
Frank Stanford
Size: 8in. w x 9.25in. h
Edition: 0
Hand Printed By: The North Press / 2015
Out of stock
Dreamt by a Man in a Field
Frank Stanford

I am thinking of the dead

Who are still with us.

They are not like us, they are 

Young and beautiful, 

On their way in the rain

To meet their lovers.

On their way with their dark umbrellas,

Always laughing, so quick,

Like limbs flying back

In a boat before night,

So constant,

Like the glass floats

The fishermen use in Japan. 

But for them there is no moon,

For us the same news 

We do not receive. 

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