Three poems

"These are the times that try men's souls"

Gone, my Love, are the high winds and the

soaring eagles.

Grim is the night.

Dim are the night beings and the night mind;

Gone is the light.

—Joseph Edwards

She suckles her pup.

She sighs and raises her head,

and licks her blind pup.

—Joseph Edwards

Go climb that mountain,

that mountain inside of you.

Then come home to me.

—Joseph Edwards