MANY birds and the beating of wi… Make a flinging reckless hum In the early morning at the rocks Above the blue pool Where the gray shadows swim lazy.

She sits in the dust at the walls And makes cigars, Bending at the bench With fingers wage-anxious, Changing her sweat for the day’s p…

SHE sits in the dust at the walls And makes cigars, Bending at the bench With fingers wage-anxious, Changing her sweat for the day’s p…

BY day the skyscraper looms in th… has a soul. Prairie and valley, streets of the… it and they mingle among its twent… poured out again back to the stree…

COME to me only with playthings… A picture of a singing woman with… Standing at a fence of hollyhocks,… Or an old man I remember sitting… Of days that never happened anywhe…

THE WASHERWOMAN is a member… And over the tub of suds rubbing u… She sings that Jesus will wash he… And the red wrongs she has done G… Shall be white as driven snow.

When country fiddlers held a conve… Danville, the big money went to a… artist who played Turkey in the S… variations. They asked him the name of the pie…

BETWEEN two hills The old town stands. The houses loom And the roofs and trees And the dusk and the dark,

ABOWSKY’S place is on a side street and only the rain washes the dusty three balls. When I passed the window a month ago, there rested in proud isolation: A family bible with hasps ...

BLOSSOMS of babies Blinking their stories Come soft On the dusk and the babble; Little red gamblers,

NOW that a crimson rambler begins to crawl over the house of our two lives— Now that a red curve winds across the shingles—

ARMOUR AVENUE was the name o… Scrap iron, rags and bottles fill… The segregated district, the Tend…

THE single clenched fist lifted a… Or the open asking hand held out a… Choose: For we meet by one or the other.

(Washington, August, 1918)I HAV… I have seen this city in the night… And in the night and the moon I h… The float of the dome in the day a… The float of the dome in the night…