#AmericanWriters
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain
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.
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn
I lie here thinking of you:—— the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves,
I have discovered that most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see t… the domes of the Church of the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken
This plot of ground facing the waters of this inlet is dedicated to the living presenc… Emily Dickinson Wellcome who was born in England; married;
In Brueghel’s great picture, The… the dancers go round, they go roun… around, the squeal and the blare a… tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and f… tipping their bellies (round as th…
Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Which sky? The sky where Watteau hung a lady’s slipper. Your knees
The May sun—whom all things imitate— that glues small leaves to the wooden trees shone from the sky
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...
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one
a trouble archaically fettered to produce E Pluribus Unum an island
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang
contend in a sea which the land pa… shielding them from the too—heavy… of an ungoverned ocean which when… tortures the biggest hulls, the be… to pit against its beatings, and s…