You say love is this, love is that… Poplar tassels, willow tendrils the wind and the rain comb, tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip— branches drifting apart. Hagh!

Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang

Her body is not so white as anemone petals nor so smooth—nor so remote a thing. It is a field of the wild carrot taking thefield by force; the grass

Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on… has been at his cadenzas for two w…

Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees

Winter is long in this climate and spring—a matter of a few days only,—a flower or two picked from mud or from among wet leaves or at best against treacherous

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…

A middle-northern March, now as a… gusts from the South broken agains… but from under, as if a slow hand… it moves—not into April—into a sec… the old skin of wind-clear scales…

While she sits there with tears on her cheek her cheek on

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.

The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air—The edge

Men with picked voices chant the n… of cities in a huge gallery: promi… that pull through descending stair… to a deep rumbling. The rubbing feet

I bought a dish mop— having no daughter— for they had twisted fine ribbons of shining copper about white twine

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 crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail