The Blue Pitcher

that which may be filled and emptied

because I am going to die I sit in the only patch of sun I can find

	Mary Heaton Thompson on Where did I go?
	Water Dispenser supp… on Poem up at The American Journa…
	Mary Heaton Thompson on Four True Stories w/ Bird…
	Mary Heaton Thompson on Four True Stories w/ Bird…
	Jayne on A Drink with Estha

	Mary Heaton Thompson on Where did I go?
	Water Dispenser supp… on Poem up at The American Journa…
	Mary Heaton Thompson on Four True Stories w/ Bird…
	Mary Heaton Thompson on Four True Stories w/ Bird…
	Jayne on A Drink with Estha