(1916)
#AmericanWriters
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn
I lie here thinking of you:—— the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves,
This quiet morning light reflected, how many times from grass and tress and clouds enters my north room touching the walls with
When over the flowery, sharp pastu… edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flower… but color and the movement—or the…
I gotta buy me a new girdle. (I’ll buy you one) O.K.
Even in the time when as yet I had no certain knowledge of her She sprang from the nest, a young… Whose first flight circled the for… I know now how then she showed me
This horrible but superb painting the parable of the blind without a red in the composition shows a group of beggars leading
Pour the wine bridegroom where before you the bride is enthroned her hair loose at her temples a head of ripe wheat is on
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.
These are the desolate, dark weeks when nature in its barrenness equals the stupidity of man. The year plunges into night
This plot of ground facing the waters of this inlet is dedicated to the living presenc… Emily Dickinson Wellcome who was born in England; married;
First he said: It is the woman in us That makes us write– Let us acknowledge it– Men would be silent.
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 will teach you my towns… how to perform a funeral… for you have it over a tr… of artists— unless one should scour t…
By the road to the contagious hosp… under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, the waste of broad, muddy fields