SUMMER

DEATH IF I THINK -

THEN SUMMER MONTH

YOU IN BLACK – READING

ENDLESS POEMS

ANGRY SUMMER

PARCHED FOR RAIN

MUNICIPAL OFFICE

WRINKLED MEN

MAY IT WAS

CAME THE KING

DIRT AND SWEAT FILLED HANDS

MY HUT UNCLEAN

SUMMER IS HOT AND DRY

STRANGER MY WARRIOR

TAKE REST

ITS EVENING TIME

WRITE LETTERS FROM

SUMMER LANDS

IN MY TRUNK THEY DRY

THE JULY MOIST RAG