Listen to a recording of this poem here. No longer light, but not yet dark, We stand here in some space between And listen to a meadow...

The dawn of day is drawing near— Would that explain Why I should wake and find you here, My lost Allayne? I see you wear the look of...

As the evening lights repine around me And the willow weeps against the glass, Soft my lover sleeps in bliss beside me, Soft the hours,...

The poems of Kevin Roberts (1969-2008) are indeed an anomaly among the sea of “Modernist,” “Formalist” and “Contemporary” verses that...