#AmericanWriters
It is a satisfaction a joy to have one of those in the house. when she takes a bath
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn
Why pretend to remember the weather two years back? Why not? Listen close then repeat after others what they have just said and win a reputation for vivacity. Oh feed upon petals o...
The birches are mad with green poi… the wood’s edge is burning with th… burning, seething—No, no, no. The birches are opening their leav… by one. Their delicate leaves unfo…
You know there is not much that I desire, a few chrysanthemum… half lying on the grass, yellow and brown and white, the talk of a few people, the trees,
Even in the time when as yet I had no certain knowledge of her She sprang from the nest, a young… Whose first flight circled the for… I know now how then she showed me
Nude bodies like peeled logs sometimes give off a sweetest odor, man and woman under the trees in full excess matching the cushion of
Rather notice, mon cher, that the moon is titled above the point of the steeple than that its color
SOFT as the bed in the earth Where a stone has lain— So soft, so smooth and so cool, Spring closes me in With her arms and her hands.
When over the flowery, sharp pastu… edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flower… but color and the movement—or the…
The world begins again! Not wholly insufflated the blackbirds in the rain upon the dead topbranches of the living tree,
School is over. It is too hot to walk at ease. At ease in light frocks they walk the stre… to while the time away. They have grown tall. They hold
It’s a strange courage you give me ancient star: Shine alone in the sunrise toward which you lend no part!
What have I to say to you When we shall meet? Yet— I lie here thinking of you. The stain of love
Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees