← v17n1, Spring 2018
Poetry · Volume 17, Number 1

Virginia Woolf at Seventeen: The Warboys Journal One

Virginia Woolf at Seventeen: The Warboys Journal One

I am practicing my penmanship with various nibs, this one thin as the beak of a lark. Push, pull. Push, pull.

~

heroic resolution to change my ideas of calligraphy

dear but somewhat too romantic pen

This This is written with my dear, but somewhat too

~

I am very sorry that I cannot find anyone

to agree in this matter with me. This at last

This This was one of the last things that

~

~

This I

This I write in the year of a

~

~

This sheet of paper if it had followed the fate

Within the fabric’s polished

~

~

Usages of linen predate the book & still

fabric spindle spire beam

the glory grows & still we

~

How can things so finely made unmake us so completely?