Brothers

Mother and Child

The heart of a dying self

A child is a vessel of hope

Husband and wife

Mother and father

Father and son

Decay with imprecision

To be conscious, is not to be in time

Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose leaves

There Rolls The Deep Where Grew The Tree

O Earth What Changes Hast Thou Seen [Father And Son]

Like Clouds They Shape Themselves And Go

Dream My Dream And Hold It To Be True

For Tho' My Lips May Breathe Adieu, I Cannot Think The Thing Farewell