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Joseph Bennett

Summer 1949

Quatrina

By Joseph Bennett

The mountaineer is working with his Bible And all Kentucky echoes to his shotgun. O mountains where our rivers rise and glisten, Consider you the primitive with buckshot. Forthwith the […]

Summer 1949

To C. T. C.

By Joseph Bennett

Genti v’eran con occhi tardi e gravi   di frande autorià ne’lor sembianti;   avan rado, con voci soavi. From the borders of the swamp I sang, Philosophic family, Sicilian muse, From […]