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Robert Hill Long

Summer 1987

Black Oak

By Robert Hill Long

For Ki Davis, d. 1983   Grown, married, Ki wished nothing morebut fabulous beasts appearedat her kitchen window: she drewlandscapes where they could graze and frolic. Then lumps of clay […]

Summer 1987

The Power to Die

By Robert Hill Long

My living room is simple: oak floor,whitewashed walls. Friends over for winter dinnerremove their shoes at the door, relax on pillows close by the fire.On the fireplace mantel there’s a […]

Fall 1992

The Beam

By Robert Hill Long

The beeches with muscular gray torsos have nothing to fear, or forget. Likewise the stands of corn do not care whether they will be cut down or fall naturally. Vegetable […]