VERSE
Fellowes, Peter
PETER FELLOWES Seeing in the Dark Look with his ears which way, his head cocked to ward off a cry and careering through dark he furrows the racket about him, old mole with a sharp tooth for...
...Testing the air lightly for it, his cane walks him into it...
...Only that draws the fear quite from him, the sweat a fist gives tightly closing on nothing...
...But what little sense things make, bumping high and higher, is it nonsense listening to his ear ring or blindness in the vestibule confessing each turn a mansion of apartments...
...PETER FELLOWES Seeing in the Dark Look with his ears which way, his head cocked to ward off a cry and careering through dark he furrows the racket about him, old mole with a sharp tooth for silence...
Vol. 103 • November 1976 • No. 24
