ORLANDO

 

 

 

Orlando

SHE, as a boy,
Was lulled to a still swoon
- Through hawthorn and fern
On the heath had he walked
Under the shrill noon -
And, hesitating to catch his
Breath on the underwing
Of an oak bough - -

Orlando found himself alone.

The evening settled like amaranth dust,
- - - A trumpet flourish interrupts -

Original poem, hand set in 10pt Baskerville and 24pt Gloucester, illustrated with a linoleum cut and printed on the pages of an old book.

15" x 11". Unique edition.