Clara wakes to a roomful of sun. It is so bright she has to shield her eyes. Beside her the bed is ... A voice rises from the garden. Going to the window, Clara sees the old woman, feeding the chickens. She is ... bent over, tossing kernels from between her fin­ gers and calling each chicken by name. It looks like ...

capuccinos I can't help asking as I lie down beneath my arbor of fig trees and grape vines, what ... yes? Blue washes over the courtyard, saying it doesn't matter. Now and then, according to the ... whim of the breeze, the sun peeks through the holes of my green heaven to dazzle me. I don't ...

boughs deploy toward Dunsinane-out toward the Goat Flats). Spey of the Symbol stones and Ness from the ... whale-roads or the keel-paths were from Orcades to the fiord-havens, or the greyed green wastes that they ...

the ground without a blanket, beneath a lone sycamore that had sur­ vived years of drought. Waking as ... followed a trail rising between the boulders. Watching the ground for snakes, Milton had almost collided ... with a man standing in the path. The stranger was a very big, ugly Indian, but Milton knew it was the ...

fits Like what I feel when I wake up each morning? Steam­ clouds Hovering over the lake, and smoke ... Page 62 from Issue 80 Early Morning in Milwaukee Is this what I was made for? Is the world that ... ascending from ten thousand chimneys As in a picture on a calendar, in a frieze of ordinary days? Beneath ...