ONLY poems listed here or in the current printed anthology are eligible for the 2016-2017 competition.
The difficulty to think at the end of day,
When the shapeless shadow covers the sun
And nothing is left except light on your fur—...
With thick strokes of ink the sky fills with rain.
Pretending to run for cover but secretly praying for more rain.
Our general was elsewhere, but we drowned.
While he rested, he shipped us home
with the bulk of his spoils...
All night the sound had
come back again,
and again falls...
We were very tired, we were very merry—
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable—...
O my Luve is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody ...
Darkness: the rain sluiced down; the mire was deep;
It was past twelve on a mid-winter night,
When peaceful folk in beds lay snug asleep; ...
This old house lodges no ghosts!
Those swaggering specters who found their way
Across the Atlantic...
After reading Ash Wednesday
she looked once at the baked beans
and fled. Luncheonless, poor girl, ...
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