#AmericanWriters
I REMEMBER the Chillicothe ba… And the shoulders of the Chillico… And the umpire’s voice was hoarse…
THE BRIDGE says: Come across,… The big rock in the river says: L… The white water says: I go on; ar… A kneeling, scraggly pine says: I… A sliver of moon slides by on a hi…
THE MILK drops on your chin, H… Must not interfere with the cranbe… Nor the sky winter blue of your ey… Let your mammy keep hands off the… This is a high holy spatter of whi…
PLAY it across the table. What if we steal this city blind? If they want any thing let 'em nai… Harness bulls, dicks, front office… And the high goats up on the bench…
WHAT cry of peach blossoms let loose on the air today I heard with my face thrown in the pink-white of it all? in the red whisper of it all?
LET it go on; let the love of thi… Time runs with an ax and a hammer,… Let the love of this hour go on; l… Time is a young man with ballplaye… Let love go on; the heartbeats are…
GUNS on the battle lines have po… between Brussels and Paris. And, William Morris, when I read… the great arches and naves and lit… corners of the Churches of Northe…
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 ...
WONDER as of old things Fresh and fair come back Hangs over pasture and road. Lush in the lowland grasses rise And upland beckons to upland.
IN Abraham Lincoln’s city, Where they remember his lawyer’s s… The place where they brought him Wrapped in battle flags, Wrapped in the smoke of memories
GIVE me your anathema. Speak new damnations on my head. The evening mist in the hills is s… The boulders on the road say commu… The farm dogs look out of their ey…
TWO fishes swimming in the sea, Two birds flying in the air, Two chisels on an anvil-maybe. Beaten, hammered, laughing blue st… Sure I would rather be a chisel w…
YELLOW dust on a bumble bee’s wing, Grey lights in a woman’s asking eyes, Red ruins in the changing
FROM the time of the early radis… To the time of the standing corn Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes. There are laws in the village agai… The law says a weed is wrong and s…
WOMEN of night life amid the lig… Where the line of your full, round… Matches in gleam the glint of your… And the ring of your heart-deep la… It is much to be warm and sure of…
