#AmericanWriters
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices
I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge
When trouble comes your soul to tr… You love the friend who just “stan… Perhaps there’s nothing he can do’ The thing is strictly up to you; For there are troubles all your ow…
It is cold. The white moon is up among her scattered stars— like the bare thighs of the Police Sergeant’s wife—among her five children . . .
The brutal Lord of All will rip us from each other—leave the one to suffer here alone. No need belief in god or hell to postulate that much. The dance: hands touching, leaves touch...
A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing
The living quality of the man’s mind stands out and its covert assertions for art, art, art!
I have discovered that most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see t… the domes of the Church of the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely
According to Brueghel when Icarus fell it was spring a farmer was ploughing his field
Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest
A three-day-long rain from the eas… an terminable talking, talking of no consequence—patter, patter,… Hand in hand little winds blow the thin streams aslant.
I feel the caress of my own finger… on my own neck as I place my colla… and think pityingly of the kind women I have known.