#AmericanWriters
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang
Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest
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
According to Brueghel when Icarus fell it was spring a farmer was ploughing his field
A power-house in the shape of a red brick chair 90 feet high on the seat of which
beauty is a shell from the sea where she rules triumphant till love has had its way with her scallops and
My wife’s new pink slippers have gay pompons. There is not a spot or a stain on their satin toes or their sides… All night they lie together
I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge
Why pretend to remember the weather two years back? Why not? Listen close then repeat after others what they have just said and win a reputation for vivacity. Oh feed upon petals o...
It is a satisfaction a joy to have one of those in the house. when she takes a bath
It’s all in the sound. A song. Seldom a song. It should be a song—made of particulars, wasps,
It is still warm enough to slip from the weeds into the lake’s edge, your clothes blushing in the grass and three small boys grinning behind the derelict hearth’s side. But summer...
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
The half-stripped trees struck by a wind together, bending all, the leaves flutter drily and refuse to let go
The world begins again! Not wholly insufflated the blackbirds in the rain upon the dead topbranches of the living tree,