#AmericanWriters
the wind is a Lady with bright slender eyes(who moves)at sunset and who—touches—the hills without any reason
OVER silent waters day descending night ascending floods the gentle glory of the sun… In a golden greeting
10 maggie and milly and molly and may went down to the beach(to play one… and maggie discovered a shell that… so sweetly she couldn’t remember h…
Where’s Madge then, Madge and her men? buried with Alice in her hair, (but if you ask the rain
I have seen her a stealthily frail flower walking with its fellows in… of light,against whose enormous cu… exactly cubes of tiny fragrance tr… i have watched certain petals rapi…
hist whist little ghostthings tip-toe twinkle-toe little twitchy
Thy fingers make early flowers of all things. thy hair mostly the hours love: a smoothness which sings,saying
i was considering how within night’s loose sack a star’s nibbling in- fin
who’s most afraid of death?thou … utterly afraid,i love of thee (beloved)this and truly i would…
you asked me to come:it was rainin… and the spring;a clumsy brightness… wonderfully stumbled above the squ… little amorous-tadpole people wigg… battered by stuttering pearl,
I will wade out till my thighs are steeped in burn… I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive
pieces(in darker than small is dirtiest any city’s least street)of mirror lying are each(why
my naked lady framed in twilight is an accident whose niceness betters easily the… of genius— painting w…
beyond the brittle towns asleep beyond the brittle towns asleep i look where stealing needles of f… in the last light thread the creeping shores
my smallheaded pearshaped lady in gluey twilight moving,suddenly is three animals. The minute waist continually