LISTEN, LAMB! My linen lamb I cannot iron you Your threads.
Listen Adorata, I held you in my arms The arms of my heart
Which plucked magnolia blossoms Brought them down To my lips, kissed them. But one night I climbed the clocktower of our town And looking down could not forgive the fire that burned you, beginning in the old church yard, down to last button-eye, so loved, my lamb.
Author BIO
Lynn Strongin
Born in New York City in 1939, Lynn Strongin's name comes up regularly in college classes as one of the most unique voices in American poetry. Strongin has lived in British Columbia for more than a quarter century, but considers herself a profoundly American writer. During the 1960s, she worked with Denise Levertov amidst the lively political environment of Berkeley, California.
Items in cart - View Cart 
