#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
I have no riches but my thoughts, Yet these are wealth enough for me… My thoughts of you are golden coin… Stamped in the mint of memory; And I must spend them all in song…
Your mind and mine are such great… Have freed themselves from cautiou… And on wild clouds of thought, nak… They ride above us in extreme deli… We see them, we look up with a lon…
Beneath my chamber window Pierrot was singing, singing; I heard his lute the whole night t… Until the east was red. Alas, alas Pierrot,
It will not change now After so many years; Life has not broken it With parting or tears; Death will not alter it,
Before a lonely shrine Of foam-born Aphrodite, Ungarlanded of vine, Undyed by dripping wine, I brought green bay to twine,
We held the book together timidly, Whose antique music in an alien to… Once rose among the dew-drenched v… Beneath a high Castilian balcony. I felt the lute strings’ ancient e…
AT six o’clock of an autumn dusk With the sky in the west a rusty r… The bells of the mission down in t… Cry out that the day is dead. The first star pricks as sharp as…
I HAVE been happy two weeks toge… My love is coming home to me, Gold and silver is the weather And smooth as lapis is the sea. The earth has turned its brown to…
ATOMS as old as stars, Mutation on mutation, Millions and millions of cells Dividing yet still the same, From air and changing earth,
I am not sorry for my soul That it must go unsatisfied, For it can live a thousand times, Eternity is deep and wide. I am not sorry for my soul,
I wear a crown invisible and clear… And go my lifted royal way apart Since you have crowned me softly i… With love that is half ardent, hal… And as a queen disguised might pas…
Oh chimes set high on the sunny to… Ring on, ring on unendingly, Make all the hours a single hour, For when the dusk begins to flower… The man I love will come to me! .…
I MADE you many and many a song, Yet never one told all you are’ It was as though a net of words Were flung to catch a star; It was as though I curved my hand
It will not hurt me when I am old… A running tide where moonlight bur… Will not sting me like silver snak… The years will make me sad and col… It is the happy heart that breaks.
Heaven-invading hills are drowned In wide moving waves of mist, Phlox before my door are wound In dripping wreaths of amethyst. Ten feet away the solid earth