(1916)
#AmericanWriters
I must tell you this young tree whose round and firm trunk between the wet pavement and the gutter
They call me and I go. It is a frozen road past midnight, a dust of snow caught in the rigid wheeltracks.
Sooner or later we must come to the end of striving to re-establish the image the image of
When the snow falls the flakes spi… that concerns them most intimately two and two to make a dance the mind dances with itself, taking you by the hand,
ALL those treasures that lie in t… Mightier than the room of the star… All those treasures—I hold them i… Against the sides and the lid and… Crying that there is no sun come a…
The murderer’s little daughter who is barely ten years old jerks her shoulders right and left so as to catch a glimpse of me
Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain
The sky has given over its bitterness. Out of the dark change all day long rain falls and falls
"Sweet land" at last! out of sea— the Venusremembering wavelets rippling with laughter—
Light hearted William twirled his November moustaches and, half dressed, looked from the bedroom window upon the spring weather.
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air—The edge
The May sun—whom all things imitate— that glues small leaves to the wooden trees shone from the sky
SOFT as the bed in the earth Where a stone has lain— So soft, so smooth and so cool, Spring closes me in With her arms and her hands.
I lie here thinking of you:—— the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves,