Author: Sarah Hanna

Westwood Lodge, 1980–1990 By Sarah Hanna And then again, you go west, to that perennial Resort at the end of the bending street, row of pines, Where Sexton strolled through noon, made mocassins, And danced in a circle: the Summer Hotel. Why every tumid season, cicadas burning blue, Beetles mounting one another, chewing all the…