#Activities #AmericanWriters #MoneyAndEconomics #SocialCommentaries
Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely
The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left
When I am alone I am happy. The air is cool. The sky is flecked and splashed and wound with color. The crimson phalloi of the sassafras leaves
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…
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…
One leaves his leaves at home beomg a mullen and sends up a ligh… to peer from: I will have my way, yellow—A mast with a lantern, ten fifty, a hundred, smaller and smal…
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
She sits with tears on her cheek her cheek on her hand
If a man can say of his life or any moment of his life, There is nothing more to be desired! his st… becomes like that told in the famo… double sonnet—but without the
Sorrow is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire
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
All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices
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...
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 . . .