#1936 #AFurtherRange #AmericanWriters #PulitzerPrize
Between two burrs on the map Was a hollow-headed snake. The burrs were hills, the snake wa… And the hollow head was a lake. And the dot in front of a name
Over back where they speak of life… ('You couldn’t call it living, for… There was an old, old house renewe… And in it a piano loudly playing. Out in the plowed ground in the co…
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…
As vain to raise a voice as a sigh In the tumult of free leaves on hi… What are you in the shadow of tree… Engaged up there with the light an… Less than the coral-root you know
You were forever finding some new… So when I saw you down on hands a… In the meadow, busy with the new-c… Trying, I thought, to set it up o… I went to show you how to make it…
Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived on air That crossed me from sweet things,
The battle rent a cobweb diamond-s… And cut a flower beside a ground b… Before it stained a single human b… The stricken flower bent double an… And still the bird revisited her y…
The line-storm clouds fly tattered… The road is forlorn all day, Where a myriad snowy quartz stones… And the hoof-prints vanish away. The roadside flowers, too wet for…
By June our brook’s run out of so… Sought for much after that, it wil… Either to have gone groping underg… (And taken with it all the Hyla b… That shouted in the mist a month a…
Some one in ancient Mas d’Azil Once took a little pebble wheel And dotted it with red for me, And sent it to me years and years— A million years to be precise—
Out walking in the frozen swamp on… I paused and said, 'I will turn b… No, I will go on farther—and we s… The hard snow held me, save where… One foot went through. The view w…
A breeze discovered my open book And began to flutter the leaves to… For a poem there used to be on Sp… I tried to tell her “There’s no s… For whom would a poem on Spring b…
There were three in the meadow by… Gathering up windrows, piling hayc… With an eye always lifted toward t… Where an irregular, sun-bordered c… Darkly advanced with a perpetual d…
I said to myself almost in prayer, It will start hair raising current… When you give it the livid metal-s… It will make a homicidal roar. It will shake its cast stone reef…
Having a wheel and four legs of it… Has never availed the cumbersome g… To get it anywhere that I can see… These hands have helped it go, and… Not all the motion, though, they e…