The hope a mooncalf follows
is sacrifice for slaughter,
and yet the wings of swallows
still skip across the water. 

The Official Website of the Leading Formalist Poet 

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What They Found

“The dead came back from Jerusalem, where they found not

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Wake Cake

  You fly back home, sit at the kitchen table

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Visiting my Dead Grandmother’s Cottage

Lithuania, 1966 Visiting her cottage I remember ripe ears of

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To Love This Flesh

To love this flesh, its rivers and valleys, its fruits,

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© by Leo Yankevich
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