#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…
When I was young the silk of my mind hard as a peony head unfurled and wind bloomed the parachute:
This is just a place: we go around, distanced, yearly in a star’s atmosphere, turning daily into and out of
afternoon’s blue clouds and white rain the mockingbird in the backyard untied the drops from
The saints are gathering at the re… places, trying tough skin on sharp conscience, endurance in the hot spots– searching out to define, come up
Walking is like imagination, a single step dissolves the circle into motion; the eye here
A day without rain is like a day without sunshine
What do I find right at the cente… relationships: a slightly disperse… tinctured core of brutality: go to… the question is not whether your l… but whether you can pay the bill,…
All afternoon the tree shadows, accelerating, lengthened till sunset
After the event the rockslide realized, in a still diversity of completion… grain and fissure, declivity
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
I look for the way things will turn out spiralling from a center, the shape things will take to come forth in
You think the ridge hills flowing,… with ups and downs will, though, building constancy into the black… for each sunset, hold on to you, i… wander, give reality recurrence en…
It was May before my attention came to spring and my word I said to the southern slopes
The people of my time are passing… wife is baking for a funeral, a 60… died suddenly, when the phone ring… Ruth we care so much about in inte… it was once weddings that came so…