#EnglishWriters
I thought I was growing wings— it was a cocoon. I thought, now is the time to step into the fire— it was deep water.
Did the people of Viet Nam use lanterns of stone? Did they hold ceremonies to reverence the opening of buds? Were they inclined to quiet laught…
A voice from the dark called out, “The poets must give us imagination of peace, to oust the… imagination of disaster. Peace, no… the absence of war.”
As you read, a white bear leisurel… pees, dyeing the snow saffron, and as you read, many gods lie among lianas: eyes of obsidian
U.S. BURIED IRAQI SOL… ‘What you saw was a bunch of trenches with arms sticking out.’ ‘Plows mounted on
Ah, Grief, I should not treat you like a homeless dog who comes to the back door for a crust, for a meatless bone. I should trust you.
As the stores close, a winter ligh… opens air to iris blue, glint of frost through the smoke grains of mica, salt of the sidewa… As the buildings close, released a…
"The World is not something to look at, it is something to be in.… Mark Rudman I look and look. Looking’s a way of being: one beco…
An old man whose black face shines golden-brown as wet pebbles under the streetlamp, is walking t… proportionate size, in the rain, in the relaxed early-evening avenu…
What is green in me darkens, muscadine. If woman is inconstant, good, I am faithful to ebb and flow, I fall
Though the road turn at last to death’s ordinary door, and we knock there, ready to enter and it opens easily for us,
I was welcomed here’clear gold of late summer, of opening autumn, the dawn eagle sunning himself on… the mountain revealing herself unc… tinted apricot as she looked west,
As swimmers dare to lie face to the sky and water bears them, as hawks rest upon air and air sustains them,
To lie back under the tallest oldest trees. How far the stems rise, rise before ribs of shelter open!
I like to find what’s not found at once, but lies within something of another nature… in repose, distinct.