#1942 #AmericanWriters #AWitnessTree #PulitzerPrize
Out through the fields and the woo… And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and desce… I have come by the highway home,
(To hear us talk) The tree the tempest with a crash… Throws down in front of us is not… Our passage to our journey’s end f… But just to ask us who we think we…
They sent him back to her. The le… Saying... And she could have him.… She could be sure there was no hid… Under the formal writing, he was i… Living. They gave him back to her…
For Lincoln MacVeagh Never tell me that not one star of… That slip from heaven at night and… Has been picked up with stones to… Some laborer found one faded and s…
A bird half wakened in the lunar n… Sang half way through its little i… Partly because it sang but once al… And that from no especial bush’s h… Partly because it sang ventriloqui…
The old dog barks backwards withou… I can remember when he was a pup.
Once when the snow of the year was… We stopped by a mountain pasture t… A little Morgan had one forefoot… The other curled at his breast. H… And snorted at us. And then he ha…
Blood has been harder to dam back… Just when we think we have it impo… Behind new barrier walls (and let… It breaks away in some new kind of… We choose to say it is let loose b…
He is that fallen lance that lies… That lies unlifted now, come dew,… But still lies pointed as it ploug… If we who sight along it round the… See nothing worthy to have been it…
I had withdrawn in forest, and my… Was swallowed up in leaves that bl… And to the forest edge you came on… (This was my dream) and looked and… But did not enter, though the wish…
The witch that came (the withered… To wash the steps with pail and ra… Was once the beauty Abishag, The picture pride of Hollywood. Too many fall from great and good
Age saw two quiet children Go loving by at twilight, He knew not whether homeward, Or outward from the village, Or (chimes were ringing) churchwar…
Spades take up leaves No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons. I make a great noise
My long two-pointed ladder’s stick… Toward heaven still. And there’s a barrel that I didn’… Beside it, and there may be two or… Apples I didn’t pick upon some bo…
I slumbered with your poems on my… Spread open as I dropped them hal… Like dove wings on a figure on a t… To see, if in a dream they brought… I might not have the chance I mis…