Morgan Michaels Biography

Clouds under heaven fly
Winds over meadow hie
Through kept field and forest wild
Rambles my motherless child.
...

Consider this marvel of Renaissance wit:
The Ideal City, by Lucian Laurana-
See how the canny master contrived in it
To lead the eye along the polished piazza
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The shade of a bird
flew through my head
and like a needle
pulling thread
...

-You knew her?

-Yes, we had lunch several times, and then, later, at the club....
...

Your grip upon the silken cord grows weak
you pluck them something now like zither strings
It must be strange with no employ of wings
to hang between the moon and quiet lake.
...