Yes, I have a thousand tongues,
And nine and ninety-nine lie.
Though I strive to use the one,
It will make no melody at my will,
But is dead in my mouth.
by Catherine PierceDeer crackle and flit into the pathless woods,
where our sons want to explore,
where the sign says don’t. The marsh
is flooded today as we cross the footbridge.
No, not flooded—full. We can hardly ...