#AmericanWriters
Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentites stirs me to it:
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
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
When trouble comes your soul to tr… You love the friend who just “stan… Perhaps there’s nothing he can do’ The thing is strictly up to you; For there are troubles all your ow…
Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest
"Sweet land" at last! out of sea— the Venusremembering wavelets rippling with laughter—
Why go further? One might conceivably rectify the rhythm, study all out and arrive at the perfection of a tiger lily or a china doorknob. One might lift all out of the ruck, be a w...
The world begins again! Not wholly insufflated the blackbirds in the rain upon the dead topbranches of the living tree,
School is over. It is too hot to walk at ease. At ease in light frocks they walk the stre… to while the time away. They have grown tall. They hold
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.
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…
They tell me on the morrow I must… This winter eyrie for a southern f… And truth to tell I tremble with… At thought of such unheralded repr… E’er have I known December in a w…
All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among
The green-blue ground is ruled with silver lines to say the sun is shining And on this moral sea of grass or dreams lie flowers