#1928 #AmericanWriters #WestRunningBrook
In the thick of a teeming snowfall I saw my shadow on snow. I turned and looked back up at the… Where we still look to ask the why Of everything below.
All out-of-doors looked darkly in… Through the thin frost, almost in… That gathers on the pane in empty… What kept his eyes from giving bac… Was the lamp tilted near them in h…
It was too lonely for her there, And too wild, And since there were but two of th… And no child, And work was little in the house,
I have been treading on leaves all… God knows all the color and form o… Perhaps I have put forth too much… I have safely trodden underfoot th… All summer long they were over hea…
Where had I heard this wind befor… Change like this to a deeper roar? What would it take my standing the… Holding open a restive door, Looking down hill to a frothy shor…
Before man to blow to right The wind once blew itself untaught… And did its loudest day and night In any rough place where it caught… Man came to tell it what was wrong…
Abstraction is an old story with the philosophers, but it has been like a new toy in the hands of the artists of our day. Why can’t we have any one quality of poetry we choose by itself...
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…
A governor it was proclaimed this… When all who would come seeking in… Ancestral memories might come toge… And those of the name Stark gathe… A rock-strewn town where farming h…
Builder, in building the little ho… In every way you may please yourse… But please please me in the kitche… Don’t build me a chimney upon a sh… However far you must go for bricks…
What tree may not the fig be gathe… The grape may not be gathered from… It’s all you know the grape, or kn… As a girl gathered from the birch… Equally with my weight in grapes,…
She is as in a field a silken tent At midday when the sunny summer br… Has dried the dew and all its rope… So that in guys it gently sways at… And its supporting central cedar p…
He would declare and could himself… That the birds there in all the ga… From having heard the daylong voic… Had added to their own an oversoun… Her tone of meaning but without th…
I WALKED down alone Sunday aft… To the place where John has been… To see for myself about the birch He said I could have to bush my p… The sun in the new-cut narrow gap
Where’s this barn’s house? It nev… Or joined with sheds in ring-aroun… The hunter scuffling leaves goes b… The gun reversed that he went out… The harvest moon and then the hunt…