Le Hinton is the author of six collections of poetry.


Sing Silence (Iris G. Press, 2018)

The Language of Moisture and Light (Iris G. Press, 2014)

The God of Our Dreams (Iris G. Press, 2010)

Black on Most Days (Iris G. Press, 2008)

Status Post Hope (Iris G. Press, 2006)

Waiting for Brion (Iris G. Press, 2004)



The Language of Moisture and Light

ISBN: 0-9785858-7-9


Music and moisture. Disharmony and light. Poems you will read over and over; turn upside down and read again.





The God of Our Dreams

ISBN: 0-9785858-5-2

Where does one find some harmonies within the chaos of our experience? Does the “God of Our Dreams” exist? Fearful of a world so fragile with loss it is difficult to believe one can ever trust happiness again, the personae of these poems discovers that it is, indeed, still possible to re-discover love – unexpected, unexplainable – untranslatable — but calling us, nonetheless, into the mystery of light.


Michael Glaser former poet laureate of Maryland


Black on Most Days

ISBN: 09785858-3-6

Black on Most Days is Lancaster resident Le Hinton's fourth collection of poetry, billed as "a jagged exploration of the themes of depression, religion and isolation." Illustrative photos of a gun and a blank tombstone emphasize the dark mood.


Lancaster Sunday News


Status Post Hope

ISBN: 0-9785858-0-1


Le Hinton takes the architecture of poetry and language out on the town. And a good time is had by all. Hinton is quite an entertainer. With a little wit and humour, and a whirl of a waltz and watusi and e.e. cummings, Le trips off into a style that suggests a kind of post-modern surrealism, yet one that is actually neither/nor.


Marty Esworthy author of twenty-six javanese proverbs





Waiting for Brion

ISBN: 1-979294-45-1

Reading Le Hinton's Waiting for Brion is like taking a walk with him. We talk of bitterness but walk on the bright side of the street. He's smart, not showy, and seems to know a lot more than his visceral, precise, spare words & private glimpses allow me to see. And we laugh, quietly, as much at ourselves as at the follies around us; part company a bit less lonely in spit of knowing, " there aren't many epiphanies."


Gene Hosey former poet laureate of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania

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