#AmericanWriters
September’s Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets– Crows– and Retros… And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming -
475 Doom is the House without the Doo… ’Tis entered from the Sun— And then the Ladder’s thrown away… Because Escape—is done—
Water makes many Beds For those averse to sleep - Its awful chamber open stands - Its Curtains blandly sweep - Abhorrent is the Rest
The Hills in Purple syllables The Day’s Adventures tell To little Groups of Continents Just going Home from School.
899 Herein a Blossom lies— A Sepulchre, between— Cross it, and overcome the Bee— Remain—'tis but a Rind.
This is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,- The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty Her message is committed
I am afraid to own a Body - I am afraid to own a Soul - Profound– precarious Property – Possession, not optional - Double Estate - entailed at plea…
357 God is a distant—stately Lover— Woos, as He states us—by His Son… Verily, a Vicarious Courtship— “Miles”, and “Priscilla”, were su…
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
XXXIII DARE you see a soul at the white… Then crouch within the door. Red is the fire’s common tint; But when the vivid ore
768 When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood— At a Window facing West— Roughest Air—was good—
XI MUCH madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority
25 She slept beneath a tree— Remembered but by me. I touched her Cradle mute— She recognized the foot—
Whose Pink career may have a clos… Portentous as our own, who knows? To imitate these Neighbors fleet In awe and innocence, were meet.