That it tumbles
\nIn sunscaped air: my love
\nextends the boundaries
\nof confusion.<\/p>\n
Slants through straits
\nof honey fingers,
\ntapered hands
\nfalls across a thigh.<\/p>\n
And I know now never
\nstretch beyond the warm
\nrepose of stones worn
\nconcave by the sun.<\/p>\n
*<\/p>\n
Published in 1967 in <\/span><\/em>Satyre<\/span>, the student literary mag at Beloit College, which I edited along with Howard Snyder and Gay Shay.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" That it tumbles In sunscaped air: my love extends the boundaries of confusion. Slants through straits of honey fingers, tapered hands falls across a thigh. And I know now never stretch beyond the warm repose of stones worn concave by the sun. * Published in 1967 in Satyre, the student literary mag at Beloit College, … <\/p>\n