A poem by V.B. Price Most all of us have lives that are like a history of breezes moving through the leaves. They happened. Some of us wrote poems, some read charred papyrus scrolls from Herculaneum, some tortured patriotically, some were wispy and tough and played the viola, others lectured, were soldiers, changed diapers, cooked […]
From LUCRETIUS AND THE LOGIC OF VENUS
