Tag: Robert Schiffman

Poem: Before Language

By Richard Schiffman   Up from the fountain the babble of children, drenched with surprise.  Alive! The rain of their syllables does not strain to speech, their glottal whoops and yells never jell to full-fledged words or phrases. Parents hover bird-like by their brood.  Parents fan and fan their little flames. And I, alone, the …

Read more