#AmericanWriters
WHEN night drifts along the stre… And sifts down between the uneven… My mind begins to peek and peer. It plays at ball in old, blue Chi… And shakes wrought dice-cups in P…
But why did I kill him? Why? Why… In the small, gilded room, near th… My ears rack and throb with his cr… And his eyes goggle under his hair… As my fingers sink into the fair
Have at you, you Devils! My back’s to this tree, For you’re nothing so nice That the hind-side of me Would escape your assault.
An arid daylight shines along the… Dried to a grey monotony of tone, And stranded jelly-fish melt soft… The sun-baked pebbles, far beyond… Sparkles a wet, reviving sea. Her…
The vine leaves against the brick… Are rusty and broken. Dead leaves gather under the pine-… The brittle boughs of lilac-bushes Sweep against the stars.
A black cat among roses, Phlox, lilac-misted under a first-… The sweet smells of heliotrope and… The garden is very still, It is dazed with moonlight,
High up above the open, welcoming… It hangs, a piece of wood with col… Once, long ago, it was a waving tr… And knew the sun and shadow throug… Of forest trees, in a thick easter…
Gushing from the mouths of stone m… To spread at ease under the sky In granite-lipped basins, Where iris dabble their feet And rustle to a passing wind,
You want to know what’s the matter… My! ain’t men blinder’n moles? It ain’t nothin’ new, be sure o’ t… Why, ef you’d had eyes you’d ha’ s… Me changin’ under your very nose,
April had covered the hills With flickering yellows and reds, The sparkle and coolness of snow Was blown from the mountain beds. Across a deep-sunken stream
Beneath this sod lie the remains Of one who died of growing pains.
Panels of claret and blue which sh… Under the moon like lees of wine. A coronet done in a golden scroll, And wheels which blunder and creak… Through the muddy ruts of a moorla…
How should I sing when buffeting… And stung with bitter surges, in w… I toss, a cockleshell? The dreadf… Marshals its undefeated dark and r… In brutal madness, reeling over gr…
Dance! Dance! The priest is yellow with sunflowe… He is yellow with corn-meal, He is yellow as the sun.
Between us leapt a gold and scarle… Into the hollow of the cupped, arc… Of Heaven it rose. Its flickering… And vanished in the sunshine. How… We guessed not, nor what thing cou…