#AmericanWriters
Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and curled heads of blue
Snow falls: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight
If a man can say of his life or any moment of his life, There is nothing more to be desired! his st… becomes like that told in the famo… double sonnet—but without the
Oh strong—ridged and deeply hollow… nose of mine! what will you not be… What tactless asses we are, you an… always indiscriminate, always unas… and now it is the souring flowers…
The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain
The grass is very green, my friend… and tousled, like the head of —— your grandson, yes? And the mounta… the mountain we climbed twenty years since for the last
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…
This is a schoolyard crowded with children of all ages near a village on a small stream
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…
Tracks of rain and light linger in the spongy greens of a nature whos… flickering mountain—bulging nearer… ebbing back into the sun hollowing itself away to hold a la…
The sky has given over its bitterness. Out of the dark change all day long rain falls and falls
Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely
All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among
At ten AM the young housewife moves about in negligee behind the wooden walls of her husband’s… I pass solitary in my car. Then again she comes to the curb