#AmericanWriters
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge
Snow falls: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
O’eh’lee! La’la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest
You say love is this, love is that… Poplar tassels, willow tendrils the wind and the rain comb, tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip— branches drifting apart. Hagh!
Sooner or later we must come to the end of striving to re-establish the image the image of
Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…
Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.
The grass is very green, my friend… and tousled, like the head of —— your grandson, yes? And the mounta… the mountain we climbed twenty years since for the last
Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentites stirs me to it:
Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem– save that it’s green and wooden– I come, my sweet,
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.
Disciplined by the artist to go round and round in holiday gear a riotously gay rabble of
This plot of ground facing the waters of this inlet is dedicated to the living presenc… Emily Dickinson Wellcome who was born in England; married;