#AmericanWriters
Land lies in water; it is shadowed… Shadows, or are they shallows, at… showing the line of long sea-weede… where weeds hang to the simple blu… Or does the land lean down to lift…
Minnow, go to sleep and dream, Close your great big eyes; Round your bed Events prepare The pleasantest surprise. Darling Minnow, drop that frown,
The tumult in the heart keeps asking questions. And then it stops and undertakes t… in the same tone of voice. No one could tell the difference.
The brown enormous odor he lived b… was too close, with its breathing… for him to judge. The floor was ro… was plastered halfway up with glas… Light—lashed, self—righteous, abov…
Remembering the Strait of Belle… some northerly harbor of Labrador, before he became a schoolteacher a great—uncle painted a big pictur… Receding for miles on either side
Love’s the boy stood on the burnin… trying to recite `The boy stood on the burning deck.' Love’s the son stood stammering elocution while the poor ship in flames went…
The moon in the bureau mirror looks out a million miles (and perhaps with pride, at hersel… but she never, never smiles) far and away beyond sleep, or
Moving from left to left, the ligh… is heavy on the Dome, and coarse. One small lunette turns it aside and blankly stares off to the side like a big white old wall—eyed hor…
I dreamed that dead, and meditatin… I lay upon a grave, or bed, (at least, some cold and close—bui… In the cold heart, its final thoug… stood frozen, drawn immense and cl…
From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea twice a day and takes
This celestial seascape, with whit… flying high as they want and as fa… in tiers and tiers of immaculate r… the whole region, from the highest… down to the weightless mangrove is…
A new volcano has erupted, the papers say, and last week I wa… where some ship saw an island bein… at first a breath of steam, ten mi… and then a black fleck—basalt, pro…
Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in the gloaming almost in… a dark purple—brown,
At four o’clock in the gun-metal blue dark we hear the first crow of the firs… just below the gun-metal blue window
Half squatter, half tenant (no ren… a sort of inheritance; white, in your thirties now, and supposed to supply me with vegetables, but you don’t; or you won’t; or yo…