#Americans #Jews #PulitzerPrize #Women
There is always something to be ma… Your mother knits. She turns out scarves in every sha… They were for Christmas, and they… while she married over and over, t…
Late December: my father and I are going to New York, to the cir… He holds me on his shoulders in the bitter win… scraps of white paper
There was an apple tree in the yar… this would have been forty years ago—behind, only meadows. Drifts of crocus in the damp grass.
In the empty field, in the morning… the body waits to be claimed. The spirit sits beside it, on a sm… nothing comes to give it form agai… Think of the body’s loneliness.
I regret bitterly The years of loving you in both Your presence and absence, regret The law, the vocation That forbid me to keep you, the se…
Night covers the pond with its win… Under the ringed moon I can make… your face swimming among minnows a… echoing stars. In the night air the surface of the pond is metal.
Little soul, little perpetually un… Do now as I bid you, climb The shelf-like branches of the spr… Wait at the top, attentive, like A sentry or look-out. He will be…
A child draws the outline of a bod… She draws what she can, but it is… she cannot fill in what she knows… Within the unsupported line, she k… that life is missing; she has cut
To say I’m without fear— It wouldn’t be true. I’m afraid of sickness, humiliatio… Like anyone, I have my dreams. But I’ve learned to hide them,
Even now this landscape is assembl… The hills darken. The oxen Sleep in their blue yoke, The fields having been Picked clean, the sheaves
What can I tell you that you don’… that will make you tremble again? Forsythia by the roadside, by wet rocks, on the embankments
The garden admires you. For your sake it smears itself wit… The ecstatic reds of the roses, So that you will come to it with y… And the willows—
In the early evening, a now, as ma… over his writing table. Slowly he lifts his head; a woman appears, carrying roses. Her face floats to the surface of…
Is it winter again, is it cold aga… didn’t Frank just slip on the ice, didn’t he heal, weren’t the spring… didn’t the night end, didn’t the melting ice
I’ll tell you something: every day people are dying. And that’s just… Every day, in funeral homes, new w… new orphans. They sit with their h… trying to decide about this new li…