#AmericanWriters
The dayseye hugging the earth in August, ha! Spring is gone down in purple, weeds stand high in the corn, the rainbeaten furrow
There were some dirty plates and a glass of milk beside her on a small table near the rank, disheveled bed— Wrinkled and nearly blind
At ten AM the young housewife moves about in negligee behind the wooden walls of her husband’s… I pass solitary in my car. Then again she comes to the curb
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge
All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among
WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one
An old willow with hollow branches slowly swayed his few high gright… and sang: Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood’s edge…
SORROW is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire
If when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping and the sun is a flame-white disc in silken mists
I’ve fond anticipation of a day O’erfilled with pure diversion pre… For I must read a lady poesy The while we glide by many a leafy… Hid deep in rushes, where at rando…
Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…
By the road to the contagious hosp… under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, th… waste of broad, muddy fields
Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and curled heads of blue
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.
It’s a strange courage you give me ancient star: Shine alone in the sunrise toward which you lend no part!