#AmericanWriters
The wonderful workings of the worl… wonderful: I’m surprised half the… ground up fine, I puff if a pebble… I’m nervous: my moarality’s intric… a squash blossom dies, I feel with…
I have a life that did not become, that turned aside and stopped, astonished: I hold it in me like a pregnancy o… as on my lap a child
I’ve pressed so far away from my desire that if you asked me what I
One failure on Top of another
Silver will lie where she lies sun-out, whatever turning the worl… longeared in her ashen, earless, floating world: indifferent to sores and greengage…
After the event the rockslide realized, in a still diversity of completion… grain and fissure, declivity
A day without rain is like a day without sunshine
The reason to be autonomous is to… a cleared instrument, ready to act… the moral realm and actual conditi… needs to be done and to do it: fin… best, if it works out, but if, lik…
Fall’s leaves are redder than spring’s flowers, have no pollen, and also sometimes fly, as the win… schools them out or down in shoals or droves: though I
When I was young the silk of my mind hard as a peony head unfurled and wind bloomed the parachute:
It was May before my attention came to spring and my word I said to the southern slopes
The blast skims over the string of takeoff lights and relinquishing
I look for the way things will turn out spiralling from a center, the shape things will take to come forth in
I don’t know somehow it seems suff… to see and hear whatever coming an… losing the self to the victory of stones and trees, of bending sandpit lakes, crescent
There is now not a single leaf on the cherry tree: except when the jay plummets in, lights, and, in pure clarity, squalls: