#AmericanWriters
I never dared be radical when youn… For fear it would make me conserva…
My unexpected knocking at the door Started chairs thundering on the k… Knives and forks ringing on the su… Voices conflicting like the candid… A mighty farmer flung the house do…
This saying good-bye on the edge o… And cold to an orchard so young in… Reminds me of all that can happen… An orchard away at the end of the… All winter, cut off by a hill from…
A head thrusts in as for the view, But where it is it thrusts in from Or what it is it thrusts into By that Cyb’laean avenue, And what can of its coming come,
For every parcel I stoop down to… I lose some other off my arms and… And the whole pile is slipping, bo… Extremes too hard to comprehend at… Yet nothing I should care to leav…
I have been treading on leaves all… God knows all the color and form o… Perhaps I have put forth too much… I have safely trodden underfoot th… All summer long they were over hea…
The white-tailed hornet lives in a… That floats against the ceiling of… The exit he comes out at like a bu… Is like the pupil of a pointed gun… And having power to change his aim…
Nothing to say to all those marria… She had made three herself to thre… The score was even for them, three… But come to die she found she care… She thought of children in a buria…
Builder, in building the little ho… In every way you may please yourse… But please please me in the kitche… Don’t build me a chimney upon a sh… However far you must go for bricks…
Two roads diverged in a yellow woo… And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I c… To where it bent in the undergrowt…
A boy, presuming on his intellect, Once showed two little monkeys in… A burning-glass they could not und… And never could be made to underst… Words are no good: to say it was a…
The soil now gets a rumpling soft… And small regard to the future of… The final flat of the hoe’s approv… Is reserved for the bed of a few s… There is seldom more than a man to…
A house that lacks, seemingly, mis… With doors that none but the wind… Its floor all littered with glass… It stands in a garden of old-fashi… I pass by that way in the gloaming…
On glossy wires artistically bent, He draws himself up to his full ex… His natty wings with self-assuranc… His stinging quarters menacingly w… Poor egotist, he has no way of kno…
She stood against the kitchen sink… Over the sink out through a dusty… At weeds the water from the sink m… She wore her cape; her hat was in… Behind her was confusion in the ro…