And character is a cosmos."This is the house (and jungle-strangled yard) I come from and carry.
"The air out here is supper-singed (and bruise-tingeing) and close. From where I'm hid (a perfect Y-crotch perch of medicine-smelling sweet-gum), I can belly-worry this (welted) branch and watch for swells (and coming squalls) along our elbow curve of river, or I can hunker-turn and brace my trunk and limbs-- and face my home."
from Pittsburgh Post-Gazette: Poet Riley's debut dazzles with originality
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