#AmericanWriters #FreeVerse
It is a willow when summer is over… a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor bitten by the sun turned orange or crimson.
All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among
Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and curled heads of blue
An old willow with hollow branches slowly swayed his few high gright… and sang: Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood’s edge…
By the road to the contagious hosp… under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, the waste of broad, muddy fields
WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one
The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left
Tho’ I’m no Catholic I listen hard when the bells in the yellow—brick tower of their new church ring down the leaves
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
When trouble comes your soul to tr… You love the friend who just “stan… Perhaps there’s nothing he can do’ The thing is strictly up to you; For there are troubles all your ow…
She sits with tears on her cheek her cheek on her hand
I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which
Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest
As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right
This horrible but superb painting the parable of the blind without a red in the composition shows a group of beggars leading