A Bulb
Misshapen, black, unlovely to the sight,
O mute companion of the murky mole,
You must feel overjoyed to have a white,
Imperious, dainty lily for a soul.
More poems by Richard Kendall Munkittrick
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At the Shrine
A pale Italian peasant,
Beside the dusty way,
Upon this morning pleasant … -
Ghosts
Out in the misty moonlight
The first snowflakes I see,
As they frolic among the leafless … -
To Miguel de Cervantes Saavadra
A bluebird lives in yonder tree,
Likewise a little chickadee,
In two woodpeckers’ nests—rent free! …